From Ashes
by whitneypark
Summary: Quick with a dagger and even quicker with a joke, Flynn Cousland always dreamed of becoming a Grey Warden... but the realization of some dreams can come at a terrible cost.
1. Chapter 1

- **This is a labor of love a few years in the making. It took a bit of prodding and a LOT of wine to finally convince myself to post my first fanfiction, so please be gentle... Dear reader, I hope you find as much enjoyment in the reading as I did in the writing. - (** **Oh, and fair warning, Flynn is a hopeless romantic at heart, so prepare for some sickeningly saccharine romantic bits mixed in with your blood and darkspawn gore.)**

 **-Prologue-**

Flaming ash rained down on Flynn Cousland as she clawed her way to refuge behind a soot-blackened column. Thick smoke billowed throughout the corridor, setting fire to her lungs and making it impossible to survey the carnage unfolding around her in every direction. The shriek of the arch demon called to her from the courtyard, beckoning to her from the darkness and igniting the taint in her blood.

Flynn knew what she had to do. She had known since that first fatal taste of darkspawn blood that damned her to this fate. Every death and sorrow had culminated in this final showdown. If she did nothing, then everything and everyone she had fought so desperately to save would be consumed along with her in the flames.

Flynn pulled the final arrow from her quiver and stepped out from behind the column to face her death.

 **-Chapter One-**

Lighting crackled across the dark clouds illuminating Flynn's mud spattered face. Rain cascaded in rivulets down her back. She shivered as a cold chill ran up her spine.

"This is it," she whispered softly and wiped the stinging rain from her face. Her years of hard work and training had culminated in this single moment. She faded into the tall grass and crept across the field towards her unsuspecting target, the damp grass muting her footfalls. She cried out triumphantly as she leapt from cover and slid into Roderick Gilmore's oblivious backside. He crashed face-first into the mud in a tangle of limbs and armor. Flynn rolled to her feet, howling with laughter as he spat mud and curses at her.

"Dammit, Flynn, you're too quiet! That was completely unfair!"

She amiably reached down to help her childhood friend to his feet, but Roderick seized her hand and yanked her down into the mud next to him. "You are such a sore loser!" she laughed, flicking muck at him.

"And you, madam, are a deceitful sneak," he growled as he finally liberated himself from his cockeyed helm. "We were supposed to be practicing _direct_ hand to hand combat."

"Hey now, you said you bet I couldn't take you down, but you never specified _how_ I had to do it," she shot him a mischievous look and reached over to wipe a streak of mud from his nose.

He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her grubby knuckles, "And how, pray tell, would you like me to pay off my debt?" He wagged his eyebrows at her lecherously.

She snatched her hand away with a gasp of mock outrage, "For shame Ser Gilmore, you are speaking to the daughter of a Teryn! We both know you are nowhere near refined enough for my dainty, feminine wiles."

He took one look at her mud-spattered face and burst into laughter, "Dainty? Feminine?! Oh, that's rich!"

She gave him a sour look and tried to wipe her face with her shirttail.

"Oh, come on Flynn, don't pout. I humbly beg your pardon _my lady_. But, how could I possibly help myself when basking in the light of such a _vision of beauty_? I mean, you just look _so_ ravishing smeared in what I can only assume is horseshit. Truly, you must be Andraste incarnate."

"You are such an ass," She laughed.

"Oh come on... you love it. You know you are going to be bored out of your mind without me here to harass you."

"It's true," she rolled to face him. "Maker help me, but I'm actually going to miss you once you head out tomorrow."

"Of course you are." He laced his hands behind his head, "I'm amazing. How could you not miss me?"

"I wish I could go with you and father to Ostagar," she sighed. "I can't believe I have to stay in this stuffy castle while you are out slaying darkspawn and having thrilling adventures. You're probably going to single handedly stop the blight and then run off to Denerim with some busty wench."

"Knowing my penchant for dashing heroics and busty wenches, you're probably not too far off." He grinned at her wickedly, "I mean you might as well just accept the fact and resign yourself to the life of a spinster. I could probably find you a cat or two before we leave tomorrow."

"It's just not fair," she grumbled. "I mean I'm clearly the better fighter..and archer..and all around person."

"Alas, such is the life of a noble woman. I am sure there are matters of court that could simply not go on without you. Do try to find time to write me between your dress-fittings and cross-stitching."

"Oh please," she scoffed, "We both know that without me you're as good as darkspawn bait."

Their laughter tapered away as the icy rain began to pick up again. Thunder rolled ominously in the distance. Flynn looked up at the dark clouds and a terrible apprehension suddenly gripped her. As much as they joked about it, the reality was that Ferelden was facing the threat of ruin at the hands of the darkspawn.

Less than a week ago, a messenger had ridden into her family's keep with news of a darkspawn resurgence. The king requested that her father, the Teryn of Highever, send reinforcements to join his ranks at the fortress of Ostagar to face the growing horde. Her father had begun assembling his forces and immediately deployed the bulk to Ostagar. A small contingency had stayed behind to wait out his final bannerman, Arl Howe, who was now three days late.

The Arl had sent a messenger ahead with a convenient excuse about the weather delaying their progress, but Flynn was not fooled. The journey from Amaranthine to Highever was no more than a day's journey on horseback. The Arl was stalling, but why? She sighed wearily and glared up at the sky.

"Flynn, what's wrong?" Roderick asked.

"Do you think I'm being paranoid?"

"About something specific, or just in general?" he quipped.

"About Arl Howe," she said witheringly.

"Well I suppose you will find out soon enough," he said and pointed over her shoulder towards the garrison gates.

A grey-haired man with a pinched, sour looking face thundered towards them on a nightmarish black stallion. Flynn barely managed to roll out of his path as he galloped by. Arl Howe reared his horse to a stop and frowned down at them. "Ms. Cousland," he seethed, "What a lovely surprise to find you here!" He narrowed his eyes at Roderick and clucked disapprovingly. "Oh, and lolling about in the filth with a commoner, no less. Such behavior is hardly befitting a lady of your stature. Whatever would your mother say?"

Flynn fought an overwhelming urge to yank the man off his horse by his tacky little trousers and show him exactly how a _lady of her stature_ behaved. "Oh, how inconsiderate of me! Had I known we were having such influential company I would have donned my finery. Perhaps if you had arrived when you were supposed to, you may have found me in a more presentable state," she retorted with a sickly sweet smile.

The Arl narrowed his eyes and snapped his reins. He glared back at her as his horse trotted towards the main hall. Flynn and Roderick watched as hundreds of Arl Howe's soldiers filed by in a grim march. Each man was in full battle dress.

A warning tickled persistently in the back of Flynn's mind. She called out to one of the soldiers near the end of the line as he passed by, "Ser, why is the company in full armor? Did you encounter trouble on the road?"

"There were..bandits..Miss," he stuttered.

"How odd. I've never heard of bandits brazen enough to attack an entire battalion of soldiers," Flynn pressed. The knight shuffled uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze.

"Dangerous times," he mumbled.

Flynn's stomach churned uneasily as they watched the man scuttle back to his position in line.

"You have that terrible worried look on your face... You know the one that makes you look like your mother." Roderick teased. He had been able to read her feelings since they were children. It was insufferably annoying sometimes.

"Still think I'm being paranoid?"

"That was strange, I'll give you that," he said as the last man disappeared out of sight into the keep. "But you won't have to put up with Arl Howe for long. We should be heading out at first light tomorrow morning."

Roderick was right. There was no reason to ruin their remaining time together with pointless paranoia and what-ifs. She pushed away her dour thoughts and turned to face him. "Roderick, will you please do me a favor?"

"Anything," he looked up at her steadily.

Her lips almost brushed his ear as she leaned in close to him. "Seeing as I won't be there in Ostagar to save you, as usual... please try not to do anything too stupid..." She smashed a handful of mud into his face and leapt to her feet cackling.

"Oh come on!" he howled and spat out a large chunk of sod.

"You never should have insulted my mother!" she laughed and fled towards the main hall to avoid the barrage of mud he was flinging at her retreating backside. She tore through the entrance hall door and collided with a wet thump into the Arl. He glowered at her venomously as she pealed her muddy clothes away from his.

"Oh my, how clumsy. Here, allow me," she said as she attempted to wipe the muck from his ornate tunic with her sopping handkerchief, succeeding only in smearing the mud further into the expensive fabric. "You know it's really not so bad," she chuckled as she stepped back to examine her handiwork. "Brown is actually quite fetching on you."

"Bryce, you're daughter certainly has grown...amusing," the Arl grumbled to her father who was standing by the fire with a striking older man in polished plate armor. His seemingly disapproving glare barely masked the laughter dancing in his eyes.

"What can I say; she inherited her mother's good looks and my appetite for mischief." He walked over and affectionately placed an arm around her shoulder. "She's right you know; Brown really does bring out your eyes quite nicely."

"Bryce, this is Antivan silk, not a burlap sack!" Arl Howe spat angrily.

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud _,_ Rendon. Nan will be able to get that stain out before tonight's banquet. She should be somewhere near the servant's quarters."

Arl Howe nodded curtly. He glowered at Flynn as he stormed away towards the kitchen.

"I'll never understand why you keep that rat on your counsel, father," Flynn muttered.

"Oh, come now, Flynn, his family is one of the most respected and influential in all of Fereldan. Besides, Arl Howe is not so bad... once you get past his greasy hair and foul temperament that is."

"Respected or not, you have to admit that he is so, so...shifty eyed! He's always lurking about like some sallow horror from a story book," she huffed.

"It's a shame you feel that way..." he said giving her a sly grin, "He's always prattling on about uniting our families through marriage. As a matter of fact, he's been begging me for months to allow him to bring his son Nathanial to the keep to meet you."

"Ugh, you told him no, I hope?" Flynn blanched.

"Oh, but think of the beautiful shifty-eyed babies you would have together," he teased. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to leave the match-making to your mother."

"Maker, no," she laughed. "Mother has terrible taste in potential suitors."

"Hey now, she picked me!" her father cried indignantly.

"As I said, _terrible_ taste in suitors." She nudged him in the ribs and his bright baritone laughter filled the room.

"Flynn, there is someone I would like you to meet." Her father led her back to the handsome stranger standing near the hearth. The man's long grey-streaked hair was tied back with a piece of leather and a gnarled dragon tooth dangled from his ear. He gave her a warm smile as they approached and Flynn self-consciously felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"This is Duncan; He belongs to the Fereldan Grey Wardens." Her father grinned at her, "I may have mentioned them once or twice?"

Flynn's heart stopped. A grey warden. A real life grey warden was standing right in front her. She had worshiped the heroes of legend since her father sat her on his knee when she was a child and told her the story of the first blight. Over the years, she had devoured every book in the castle that mentioned them and pled with her father to retrieve more each time he went to the capitol. She rubbed her eyes to make sure that the collision with Roderick had not rattled her senses. "It is such an honor! I am a huge admirer. Well not of you specifically seeing as we just met and that would be unsettling...but of the Grey Wardens," she babbled. She extended her mud-smeared hand and the Warden took it affably.

"Duncan is here recruiting for the order. He has his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Flynn's smile faltered and she slowly released her grip on Duncan's hand. "That's... wonderful," she stammered.

Duncan looked at her appraisingly for a moment. "You know Bryce, I happened to observe Flynn training with Ser Gilmore and the other knights this morning. She shows exceptional skill and talent. Might I be so bold as to say that your daughter might also make an excellent recruit?"

"Father, may I also be as bold as to agree?" She gasped. She did not wait for a response before continuing, "I will just assume it is decided then? Fantastic, I will go pack my things right away!" She turned and tried to make her escape.

"Not so fast, Flynn. I appreciate the offer Duncan, but my daughter will not be accompanying you."

"Please father, I beg you at least consider it," she pled, "I am a better shot with the bow than any knight in your service. I mean for Maker's sake, you have me teach your men courses on stealth and survival."

"You have duties you must fulfill here. Besides, we both know your mother would have my head if I even entertained the idea."

"But father..." she sputtered.

"Enough Flynn, I will hear no more talk of joining the wardens." His tone was still light, but there was a note of finality in it that implied she was never going to win this battle. "Now stop sulking and go get cleaned up for supper."

"Yes sir," she sighed.

"Oh and fair warning, pup, your mother has gathered a horde of new suitors to introduce you to this evening."

"I'd much rather face a horde of darkspawn," she grumbled and stalked off down the hall. She began to round the corner towards her chambers when she spotted her mother approaching with a crowd of well-dressed nobles. She fled back down the hall, just managing to duck into her brother's room and quietly shut the door before they could notice her.

"Oh for Maker's sake!" her mother cried out angrily. "Who tracked mud all over my new Orlesian carpets!?"

She listened until she heard angry footsteps retreating towards the banquet room before releasing a heavy sigh of relief.

"In trouble again, Aunt Flynn?" a soft voice inquired.

She turned to find her nephew Oren seated on the ground surrounded by a battalion of toy knights.

"Aren't I always?" she smiled at him mischievously.

"Look at what father gave me before he left yesterday!" He handed her a member of his tin-cavalry and puffed up his chest proudly. "Now I can command knights, just like father will at Ostagar!"

"Well Oren, you might want to give them the order to cover that right flank before the dragon attacks," she said gravely.

He looked up at her with wide blue eyes, "What dragon, Aunt Flynn?"

"This dragon!" she roared, stomping towards him. He squealed with laughter as she lifted him into the air and spun him around.

"You better watch out dragon! I'm a mage!" He cried and began to hurl imaginary lightning bolts at her. She fought the imaginary onslaught bravely, until she pretended to take a direct hit to the heart and fell to the ground snarling and dying in an exaggerated fashion. Oren squealed and leapt on top of his kill triumphantly.

"FLYNN! What in the Maker's name are you doing? Unhand my child, you are getting him filthy!" An indignant voice barked. Flynn looked up at her aggravated sister-in-law as she leered down at her from the doorway.

"I'm sorry Oriana, but Oren started it. I mean look at him," she said pinching his cheek, "How could I possibly help myself?"

Oriana shook her head exasperatedly. "I swear Flynn, if it's not one thing with you, it's another. I had to bathe him four times last week after your little _adventure_ together in the pig pen."

"He had never seen piglets! It's not my fault that he fell in...Well not entirely my fault." She gave him a sly wink. His hand flew to his mouth in an attempt to muffle his giggles.

"I'll clean everything up after supper, Oriana, I swear." She knelt down and ruffled Oren's hair. "Don't forget to close up that flank, soldier."

Flynn scouted the hall for her mother before retreating to her room. She discarded her armor in a heap at the door and examined herself in the looking glass with a disgusted scowl. Roderick was right; she looked like a drowned dog. She had been up since dawn running the knights through drills and working on hand-to-hand combat with Roderick. Her slight frame was battered with bruises and covered in a thick layer of grime.

She was pleased to see that one of the servants had drawn her bath. Flynn hardly considered herself a creature of vanity, but the warm water was exactly what she needed to wash away the aftermath of the day's training. She stepped in and groaned contentedly. It seemed she had just gotten comfortable when her mother rapped impatiently on the door and gave her a curt warning that dinner would be served at the top of the hour.

Flynn sighed and begrudgingly stepped out of the tub. She pulled on a simple tunic and her favorite worn trousers. Her mother would be livid if she showed up to supper in pants, but perhaps she could grab a plate and slip out before she noticed. If there was one thing Flynn hated more than the constant barrage of suitors, it was the constraint of a corset. She braided her wavy chestnut hair into a long plait and pushed her bangs back from her hazel eyes.

"Much better," she said after a final evaluation in the mirror. She opened the door to the hall to find Roderick mid-knock. "I knew you couldn't stay away for long," she said, giving him a crooked smile.

"Don't flatter yourself woman. Your mother sent me to fetch you; she is with lady Landra and Darian in the study."

Flynn smacked her palm to her forehead. "Oh maker no...Not that twat," she groaned. Recently, her mother had taken to parading a string of nobleborn men through the castle in hopes of finally convincing Flynn to settle down. Darian was her mother's latest futile attempt. He stood a half-foot shorter than Flynn and had a faint, wispy moustache he liked to stroke luridly as he stared at her. "Please put me out of my misery," she grabbed one of the silverite daggers she concealed in her waistband and pointed it at her heart dramatically, "Here just get it over with."

"Sorry Flynn, I enjoy watching you squirm too much to let you off that easy. Besides, Darian wanted me to let you know that he has been _'yearning'_ for you," he snickered nefariously.

"Gaaaah! Can't you just duel him to the death in my honor? Hell, maybe I'll get lucky and you'll finish each other off."

"Ha! Duel for _your_ honor? What honor?" he scoffed.

"Oh, I'll show you honor alright!" She lunged forward and grabbed him around the neck, attempting unsuccessfully to put him into a headlock. He pried her loose, wrestled her to the floor, and pinned her arms down to the ground with his legs.

"Cry pardon!" he shouted as he began to tickle her mercilessly.

"Never!" she cawed between shrieks of laughter.

"Flynn Rowan Cousland!" an impatient voice snapped furiously. "What in the Maker's name are you two doing?"

Roderick looked up and the color drained from his face. He rolled off Flynn and leapt to his feet, his eyes cast down sheepishly. Flynn spun around to find her mother glaring daggers at the duo. Lady Landra and her son Darian stood behind her, their mouths gaping open in matching looks of haughty indignation.

"Mother! Roderick..I..mean, Ser Gilmore and I were just...Umm," she floundered, eyeing him pleadingly.

"What she means to say, my lady, is that we were... practicing?" Roderick finished lamely.

"YES! Practicing! For the darkspawn!" Flynn interjected, a little too enthusiastically.

Her mother raised an eyebrow, "So you two will be tickling the blight away?' Ser Gilmore, shouldn't you be preparing to meet with Duncan?"

"Yes, my lady," he replied hastily. He threw a final sympathetic glance to Flynn as he ducked down the hallway.

Her mother narrowed her eyes at Flynn threateningly and turned back to her guests. Flynn felt like a lamb being led to slaughter. "Flynn, you remember Lady Landra and her son _Darian_."

"Of course, how could I forget?" She mumbled through gritted teeth. The mother-son duo had been skulking about the castle for the past few months. So far, she had been mostly successful in avoiding his feeble courting attempts. He had nearly managed to corner her into a conversation about a week ago, but she made a daring escape by jumping out a second story window into the courtyard well. It had taken Roderick nearly two hours to fish her out.

"My lady, may I say that your loveliness never ceases to amaze me. Your haunting hazel eyes vex me during my sleeping and waking hours," Darian simpered as he reached limply for her hand...it was disturbingly moist.

"Oh maker, here we go again," she muttered under her breath, apparently loud enough to earn a nasty glare from her mother.

"Eleanor, my Darian just cannot stop talking about your daughter!" Lady Landra tittered. "It is always Flynn this, and Flynn that. I think I hear wedding bells in the future!"

Flynn suppressed the urge to gag as the woman wiped a smudge from his cheek with a spit-covered finger.

"Oh, if only we could be so lucky," her mother said breathily. "Landra you must pardon us, but Bryce is expecting us in the hall shortly. I will come to your room as soon as we have finished the formalities." She grabbed Flynn's arm and practically dragged her back down the hallway away from her guests.

"Mother, I..." she began but her mother herded her into a deserted hall and slammed the door shut behind them. Flynn braced herself for the impending tongue-lashing as her mother spun to face her.

"Honestly, Flynn, I have no idea what has gotten into you!" She hissed, "Your behavior lately has been beyond reproach!"

"Beyond reproach? Well, best ship me off to the chantry before I burn the keep down then. I hear the Denerim order is especially tough on degenerates of my level," she said lightly in an attempt to defuse the uncomfortable situation. Her mother was clearly not amused.

"This is exactly what I am talking about, Flynn! Everything is always some foolish joke to you. Why must you fight me on everything?"

"I'm not fighting you, mother. I just wish that you would take my feelings into consideration before trying to pass me around from suitor to suitor like a tray of pastries." She tugged at a loose string on her tunic and shuffled uncomfortably. Her mother sighed and sat down heavily in an archaic armchair, sending a decade worth of dust motes soaring into the air. Flynn watched as they drifted upwards, wishing very much that she could join them as they escaped through an open window.

Her mother rubbed her face tiredly. "Do you think I enjoy needling you about this? You have turned your nose up at nearly every noble born son in the entire kingdom of Fereldan! I'm at my wits end, Flynn!"

"It's not my fault that every _noble born son of Fereldan_ is a complete and utter twat."

Her mother's lip quivered lividly. "You will be twenty-two years old on your next birthday, the members of the Court are beginning to talk!"

"Well, Maker, we wouldn't want that now, would we," Flynn said acidly. "Why is this so important to you, mother? Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to find love when I'm ready?"

"I wish it were that simple, Flynn," she sighed, "I know you did not choose this life, but please try to understand how things must be. You have a duty to your family and people to uphold tradition."

Flynn threw up her arms angrily, "Do I have absolutely no say in my own fate?"

"This is about that Gilmore boy isn't it?"

"What?!" Flynn sputtered furiously, "You are joking, right?"

"Oh for Maker's sake, I'm not blind, Flynn. You have grown far too close to him. I mean really, do you have any idea how mortifying it was to find you tangled together on the ground in front of our guests like two...two...dogs in heat!" She finished irately.

"Mother, it's nothing like that! Ser Gilmore is just my friend; He is like a brother to me!"

"It is quite obvious that he is infatuated with you, Flynn, but you are the daughter of a Teryn and as such you are expected to marry someone equal to your station."

"You mean like that prat, Darian? Mother, I know I haven't been the ideal daughter, but that is just cruel."

Her mother stood and closed the distance between them, "Keep your voice down! I will not have you humiliate me further in front of our guests! I have no more time to stand here arguing with you about it. Go straighten your hair, and for maker's sake, Flynn, _put on a dress_!"

Flynn nodded brusquely, threw open the doors to the hall and practically sprinted back to her room. She slammed the door shut behind her and collapsed onto the edge of her bed. Hot, bitter tears began to stream down her face. As much as she loathed admitting it, her mother's words had a harsh sting of truth to them. Most of the noble born girls her age were married and already starting a family. Much to her Mother's chagrin, Flynn had never taken to the opulence of Court, preferring instead to spend her time in the woods or training with Roderick. She had always been close to her mother but the constant bickering about Flynn's tomboy behavior was beginning to drive a wedge between them.

As for Roderick...She supposed she could understand her mother's assumption. The two had been practically joined at the hip for the past ten years. His father, one of the Cousland family's banner men, was killed during the war with Orlais when Roderick was nine. Her father took Roderick in as a squire soon after. They had been inseparable ever since.

Throughout their years of friendship, she had never even entertained the idea of their relationship becoming romantic. There had been rumors of course, but they had always laughed them off. They were proud of the fact that they never let themselves get swept up in the ridiculous courtship rituals of their peers. Whenever her family would hold a banquet, they would liberate a bottle of wine from the cellar and sneak up to the rafters to mock the doe-eyed girls and tight-laced boys who fawned and pawed at one another. Her mother's accusation that Roderick was hiding an infatuation with her was absurd...Wasn't it?

Over the past few weeks, Flynn had also begun to notice something subtly changing between them. She had initially shrugged it off as anticipation for his upcoming deployment to Ostagar, but deep down she knew it was something more. They had trained together for years, but now when his hand lingered while correcting her fighting stance or when he would brush her hair back from her eyes, it felt different. Like something unspoken was passing between them. Was it possible that she had been trying to fool herself about the way he felt for her? Or perhaps even the way she truly felt for him.

"Dammit, this is ridiculous!" she sobbed.

As if on cue, the door to her room crashed open and Roderick burst in.

"Flynn, your mother is in a lather and she sent me to...fetch... you," he stopped uncomfortably. "Why in the makers name are you crying?"

She grabbed a pillow and flung it at him furiously. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking!?"

"Flynn, what's wrong?" He knelt in front of her and turned her chin up to face him. She refused to meet his eyes.

"Nothing, it's stupid and I don't want to talk about it."

"Fwooo!" He exhaled dramatically, "Well good, because you are a _really_ ugly crier. I don't feel so terrible laughing at you if there is nothing wrong."

She honked a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"Now really, what's the matter? You know you can tell me anything." He smiled warmly and pushed her bangs back from her eyes. "I promise to only judge you a little bit."

"This is going to sound crazy, and please don't laugh until I've finished, but my mother is under the ridiculous impression that you have...feelings...for me." Flynn waited expectantly for his laughter, or at least a witty retort about her being _almost_ as attractive as an ogre...anything other than the terrible silence that now hung in the air. "Oh Maker, I knew I shouldn't have said anything," she said bitterly. She stood and tried to make a break for the door but he caught her by the hand and pulled her back towards him.

"Your mother is quite perceptive," he swallowed nervously.

She stared up into his gold-flecked eyes and was, for perhaps the first time in her life, speechless.

"Flynn, I've loved you since the moment I set eyes on your scrawny, freckled face when we were children and I most certainly love the beautiful, remarkable woman you have become."

"I suppose I am pretty remarkable," she joked lamely.

"And let's not forget how humble you are..." he laughed and gently wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks, "I've been holding back from telling you out of fear that it would ruin our friendship...and that you would punch me in the face." He grinned and pulled her closer. "But now that I'm heading out tomorrow towards almost certain doom, perhaps it's time I throw caution to the wind…Fair warning, Flynn, I'm going to kiss you now."

Flynn was too stunned to put up any resistance as he began to lower his face to hers. Just as their lips were about to brush, a piercing scream ripped through the silence, startling them apart.

"What in the maker's name was that!" Flynn cried.

She snatched her bow from its peg on the wall and drew an arrow. The sound of ringing metal echoed down the hall. Roderick pushed Flynn behind him protectively and slowly opened the door.

"Maker!" he cried and slammed the door shut as an arrow thudded into the solid oak.

"Flynn, the castle is under attack! You need to hide!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and frantically tried to stuff her under her bed.

"Roderick, for Maker's sake, stop shoving! I am not going to fit under there and I am certainly not going to hide! I'm coming with you!"

A soldier crashed through the door brandishing a heavy mace, he grabbed Roderick by the collar and swung the mace back. Flynn yanked back her bowstring and instinctively loosed an arrow directly into his heart. The attacker collapsed to the ground in a heap. None of her training could have prepared her to watch the life drain from the soldier's eyes. She stared down at his body in disbelief, paralyzed by the shock of what she had just done.

Roderick rolled the man onto his back. "Flynn, Look at the sigil on his shield! This is one of Arl Howe's men!"

Arl Howe was attacking her family. Her instincts had been right. Fury replaced her stunned terror. She stormed into the hallway, oblivious of anything but the sound of her bowstring snapping and men crumpling to the ground. They managed to take out six more soldiers before the others began to retreat down the hall.

"The cowards obviously expected to take us by surprise," Roderick spat as he tried to regain his breath. More sounds of struggle were coming from every direction in the castle. "Most of our soldiers deployed yesterday with your brother for Ostagar. The castle will not hold for long if Howe's entire force is attacking!"

"Oh Maker, what if they went for Fergus's room first!" Flynn cried.

She tore down the hall to her brother's quarters and threw open the door. Flynn bit down on her hand to hold back a shriek of horror. She was too late. Her sister-in-law and nephew were sprawled together on the floor surrounded by a spreading pool of blood. Both of their throats were slit from ear to ear. Flynn stumbled to her knees as the room began to spin around her.

"Flynn, please, I need you to look at me," Roderick pled.

She finally tore her gaze away from her nephew's body and looked up at him numbly.

"Arl Howe is obviously trying to take the castle in a bid for power. We have to get you and your parents out of here immediately."

He gently grabbed her by the arms and brought her back to her feet. He smoothed down her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"He's not going to get away with this Flynn," Roderick said softly. He took her face into his hands. "I promise."

Flynn leaned down and gently closed Oren's lifeless eyes. She wiped a streak of blood away from his freckled nose and felt something inside herself harden. She grabbed her bow, willed herself to her feet, and slipped with Roderick out the door down the blood-spattered hallway. They burst through the chamber doors and began to fight their way back towards the main hall to find her parents. Her mother suddenly stumbled backwards out of a doorway and Flynn intuitively fired an arrow into the throat of a man pursuing her with a hatchet.

"Oh thank the Maker, Flynn! I thought they had gotten to you first," Her mother tried to pull her back down the hall to Fergus's room. "Quickly, we must find Oren and Oriana and flee to Denerim at once!"

"Mother, Oren and Oriana are gone."

"What do you mean, gone? Flynn, what do you mean, gone?!"

Flynn could not meet her mother's eyes. She shook her head and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Oh Maker, please no, not my sweet Oren!" Her mother grabbed her by the arms to keep from collapsing. "What kind of a monster would kill an innocent child?"

"Arl Howe," Flynn snarled. "The only thing we can do for them now is to make sure that snake suffers."

Her mother nodded coldly and fought to regain her composure.

"Where is father?"

"The main hall. They were trying to hold off a battering ram when I ran to fetch you."

"Well then, we shouldn't leave him waiting."

Roderick took point as they sprinted down the hall towards the courtyard. Smoke began to billow through the corridor. Arl Howe's men were setting fire to the outside gates. It wouldn't be long before the entire castle went up in flames. Flynn picked off stray attackers with her bow and slammed down the heavy oak bar over the doors to the hall to keep others from pursuing. They found her father and the few remaining soldiers frantically trying to hold back the main doors to the keep. A battering ram pounded into them rhythmically.

"Flynn, Eleanor, thank the Maker!" her father gasped. A long gash in his side was dripping blood onto the marble floor.

"Father, you're wounded!" Flynn cried as he staggered towards them.

"It's nothing Flynn. There is not much time before they break through," he panted and took Roderick by the shoulders. "Roderick, listen to me. I need you to take Flynn and Eleanor to the larder. There is a secret tunnel hidden behind the cupboard that leads out of the castle to the backfield. You must protect them."

"With my life," he swore.

"Bryce, we are not leaving without you," her mother wept.

"I will only slow you down; you have to go now, without me!"

"Like hell we do," her mother growled. She flung her husband's arm around her shoulder and began to drag him with her back towards the kitchen. Even facing certain death, Flynn was shocked by such an unexpected outburst from her usually prim and docile mother. She whirled around as the doors to the great hall finally gave and splintered open. The Cousland guards could barely hold back the flood of soldiers that poured in.

Roderick drew his sword and began to run towards the doors. "Go! I will hold them off as long as I can!" he shouted.

"No Roderick, you have to come with us!" She begged and desperately tried to tow him back towards the larder with her. "Please...I'm not going to leave you here to die."

"Flynn, I'll be fine. I promise. Your parents need you, so go. And please...stop crying, you look terrible." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead lightly. "I love you, Flynn."

She could do nothing to stop him as he disappeared into the bedlam.

"Flynn!" Her mother's strained voice cried over the clamor.

She grabbed her father's other arm and they staggered down the hall to the larder. Flynn frantically hauled sacks of dried goods from on top of the trap door and yanked the rusted hinges open to reveal the gaping mouth of a dark tunnel that disappeared deep into the earth.

"Come on, we have to go now!"

Her father took a step towards the tunnel and collapsed to the ground, clutching his side. He leaned back against the larder wall desperately gasping for air.

"Father? Please, we're so close." She knelt in front of him and took his bloodied hand.

"The castle is surrounded, Flynn. I cannot go on."

"I am afraid the Teryn is correct my lady," a low voice said from behind her, "Howe's men surround the castle. It is mere chance that they have not discovered this passage yet."

She wheeled around, drawing an arrow to find the grey warden standing in the shadows of the doorway.

"Duncan, I beg you, take my daughter and wife to safety," her father pled.

"I will, but I fear I must ask something in return. I came here seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands I meet it." Duncan looked to Flynn.

"I understand," Her father rasped.

Her mother helped her to her feet, "You must go with Duncan, Flynn."

"Mother, no! You have to come with us!" she pled.

"I will not leave your father alone to die by that monster's hand. I will hold them off as long as possible to buy you time to escape." She took Flynn into her arms and smoothed her hair. "Flynn, make Arl Howe pay for what he has done."

"I love you both so much," she wept.

"We know sweetheart," her mother whispered.

Duncan took her hand and guided her into the darkness of the tunnel. The trap door thudded shut hollowly behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

The burning ruins of the castle slowly faded into the distance as they made their way through the dense forest that skirted the main road. The wind whipped at them angrily, bringing with it the acrid smell of smoke. Flynn's grief consumed her. It clawed at her like the briars tearing into her bare skin as they pushed their way through the tangled heart of the woods. They traveled for several miles until Duncan stopped and looked up at the sky where the last remnants of daylight began to slip beneath the horizon. He stretched and set his pack on a rock outcrop in the middle of the soggy clearing where they stood.

"We should be far enough away to avoid detection," he said quietly. "We'll make camp here and continue in the morning."

Flynn sat down on a rotten log while Duncan started a small fire. She pulled her knees to her chin and stared into the crackling flames that licked the sky. Flames like those that were now surely devouring everything and everyone she loved.

"Flynn, would you like something to eat?" Duncan tossed her half a loaf of bread. She looked at it despondently and continued to stare mutely into the fire. They sat in silence until she finally excused herself and crawled into the tent he had erected for her. She curled up on top of her bedroll and cried herself to sleep.

The days passed in a bleak blur as they made their way to join up with the rest of the grey warden forces. They managed to avoid the patrols Arl Howe deployed in search of survivors of the massacre by trekking through the woods and avoiding the main roads. Her grief began to fade slowly to a dull ache as they put miles between themselves and Flynn's home. After several days of grueling travel, they finally approached the gates to the massive fortress of Ostagar. Flynn stood gaping up in wide-eyed wonder at the stronghold. The fortress sat on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by insurmountably high walls. A tower stood at the foot of the bridge that spanned the deep chasm to the main keep. Flynn looked over the edge as they crossed. Her head reeled dizzily as she stared down into the seemingly endless abyss.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Duncan asked and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"I've never seen anything its equal. It's more than I could imagine from the descriptions in my books," she said breathlessly.

"I may not agree with all of the king's tactics, but choosing to refortify Ostagar to make our stand against the blight was a wise decision."

"King Cailan is here?"

"Against my protests, yes. Despite his lack of formal training against the Darkspawn, he seems determined about riding into battle with the Wardens," Duncan sighed.

"Ugh, somehow I'm not surprised," Flynn scoffed.

"You are familiar with the King?"

"Unfortunately. We are only a few years apart in age. Before he married Anora, my mother even petitioned King Maric to bring him to our castle in an attempt to, 'join our families', as she put it."

"I take it things did not go as your mother planned?" Duncan asked with a wry smile.

"Oh..not at all..." Flynn laughed. "My mother finally managed to orchestrate a visit when we were still children. The prince was so pompous that Roderick and I locked him in our spider-infested dungeon until he cried and wet his pants. Needless to say, all talks of marriage were quickly abandoned."

Duncan cracked a rare smile and she followed him across the bridge to the main hub of the camp. There they found King Cailan and his advisors pouring over a map. The king spotted Duncan, and sloshed down his mug of ale onto the table. "Duncan! I thought for sure you'd been dragged off by the blight! Good to see you!" The king clapped him on the back. Flynn could tell by the smell of him that it was likely not his first drink of the morning.

"Flynn? Flynn Cousland?" His face broke into an enormous grin, "Maker girl, you've certainly filled out nicely. What brings you here?"

"I see you haven't lost any of your _charm_ Cailan." She couldn't help but return his grin and took his extended hand amiably.

"Where is that blighter Ser Gilmore? Still following you around like a lovesick puppy, I'm sure."

Her momentary happiness shattered.

"Your brother Fergus is off scouting in the woods. I'm sure he'll be back soon enough though," the king continued obliviously.

Fergus. She had completely forgotten that Fergus had been sent ahead with her father's main forces to join up with Cailan. He still did not know about their family. Maker, how was she going to tell him about Oriana and Oren?

"My family and Ser Gilmore were killed by Arl Howe in a bid for power," she said quietly.

The king's grin faded.

"Flynn, I am so sorry. As soon as we defeat this blight I will personally lead my men to bring Arl Howe to justice."

"Thank you Cailan." She willed herself not to start crying in front of the king. She doubted he would ever let her live it down.

"I'm sure we'll have defeated the darkspawn and be on our way in less than a fortnight. I'm not sure this is even a real blight," he sighed disappointedly. "There's been no sign of an arch demon, and we've already defeated the bloody bastards in three battles. I don't understand why Logain keeps droning on about how we need to postpone the offense until we can gather more soldiers. Strike while the iron is hot I say!"

"Wait, Teryn Logain is here?" Flynn gasped.

Teryn Logain was Fereldan's greatest hero in the war with the Orlesians. She held him in the same high regard as the grey wardens. When she was a girl, she had even gone so far as to rip a portrait of him from one of her father's books. She kept it in her bedside drawer and took it out from time to time to fawn over. That was until Roderick found it. He still teased her mercilessly about the little hearts she had drawn around the Teryn's face... Well, had teased her... Tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away angrily.

"Well Flynn, it was a pleasure to see you again, but I must be off. Can't keep the darkspawn waiting forever you know?" Cailan waved cheerfully as he was lead away by his gaggle of advisors.

"He certainly seems... confidant," Flynn muttered skeptically.

Duncan sighed, "I'm not sure his majesty understands the severity of the situation before us."

"I'm sure what you really mean is that he's acting like a dim-witted twit. Cailan has never been the sharpest sword in the forge."

"In so many words I suppose," Duncan laughed. "There are arrangements I need to make before your joining. I need you to find the other recruits and the junior Grey Warden, Alistair. They should be somewhere in the camp." He gave Flynn a warm smile and set off back down the bridge.

Flynn drew up her hood and watched until he disappeared into the dense forest. She grabbed an apple from a passing food cart as she wandered in the general direction Duncan had indicated. The camp was overflowing with soldiers wearing countless sigils from every corner of Fereldan. The chaos of the camp was a welcome reprieve from the quiet of the forest. The silence had given her too much time to reflect on her grief. It felt good to be surrounded by people and distraction again. She shoved her way through the mob until she reached a clearing near the steps to the chantry. She pulled herself up onto a low hanging branch of a stunted oak tree and took a bite of her apple.

She looked out into the throng for someone in Grey Warden armor and sighed exasperatedly. Duncan could have at least given her a description of this Alistair character before he set her loose to wander the camp by herself. There were hundreds of soldiers milling about in the courtyard.

After a few minutes, she noticed a young man in templar armor politely pushing his way through the multitude. He looked to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older. The knight shielded his eyes as he surveyed the crowd for someone. He apparently spotted his target at the top of the stairs and began jogging towards the chantry. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and pushed his blonde hair back with a sigh of grim resignation. Flynn could hear him softly humming a funeral dirge.

She leaned forward to get a closer look at the knight and the branch she was seated on suddenly began to sway precariously. She heard the dry wood crack and squawked a cry of terror as she began to tumble forward towards the ground, bracing herself for an impact that never came. The knight heard the panicked cry and rushed over to find her dangling off the jagged end of the limb by the seat of her pants. As if her situation were not embarrassing enough, she was mortified to see that the stranger was extraordinarily handsome.

"Well...this...is awkward," she laughed.

"Aren't you a strange looking bird," he grinned.

"I don't suppose..." she gestured sheepishly to her snagged backside.

"Oh! Of course," he laughed and easily lifted her from her perch. Flynn could feel her cheeks flushing as he carefully set her down.

"I don't believe I've seen you about camp before," he said as he helped gather the contents of her upended pack.

"I just arrived this morning."

"Dare I ask why you were dangling from that tree?"

"Well, prior to dangling, I was searching for someone."

"Anyone in particular?" he asked helpfully. "Wait, hold that thought. I had better deliver this message and perhaps I can assist you in finding them. I will only be a moment.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you."

He gave her a jovial smile and jogged up the stairs two at a time. He stole a final glance over his shoulder when he reached the landing, nearly tripping into an ornate fountain in the process. He recovered gracefully and threw her another good-humored grin. She watched as he approached a surly looking mage and handed him a thick envelope from his pack. The mage tore open the envelope impatiently. His face twisted into a furious snarl as he read the message. He jabbed a finger into the knight's chest and began to shout at him furiously. Flynn couldn't quite make out what he was saying over the clamor of the camp. Her curiosity finally got the best of her and she snuck up the stairs to a closer position behind a low wall to investigate.

"What her _reverence_ desires is of no concern to me, templar! I am busy helping the resistance, by the king's orders I might add!" the mage roared.

The knight caught her peeking at him from behind the wall and winked at her roguishly. "Oh great and powerful mage, I beg of you, please don't zap the messenger..."

Flynn clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. The knight's grin widened at the response from his audience.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Oh, yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message," he goaded.

"You are beginning to try my patience, _Templar._ " He spat the last word like a curse. Lightning began to crackle between from the mage's fingertips as his fury grew.

"Oh and here I thought we were getting along so well. Ah, what a pity. Well it has certainly been a _pleasure_ , but I must be going. Other messages to deliver and mages to _harass_."

He gave the mage a sarcastic bow and turned to walk away. The infuriated mage's lip curled into a nasty sneer as he raised his staff to cast a spell at the knight's unsuspecting back. Flynn flew from her hiding spot and fired an arrow into the glass orb atop his staff. The staggered mage toppled backwards in surprise and landed with an unceremonious splash in the ornate fountain.

"Now now ser mage, it's hardly fair to attack someone while their back is turned." She chided, as she stepped forward to offer a hand to help him out, but the mage smacked it away furiously. He staggered out of the water and shot them a final icy glare as he limped away to nurse his wounded pride.

"Well, it's not every day I am attacked by a mage and then saved by a beautiful maiden." The knight grinned brightly.

"You obviously haven't been associating with the right maidens then," she laughed and extended her hand, "I never properly introduced myself, I'm Flynn."

"The new recruit? I should have known! Duncan wrote ahead to say you would be coming. I'm Alistair."

"Alistair, the junior Grey Warden? I've been searching for you all morning!"

"Well, I suppose it really is my lucky day then." He took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Wait, you don't happen to be a mage do you?"

She wiggled her fingers mysteriously and pulled a silver piece from behind his ear. "I'm also a wiz at card tricks."

"Sorceress!" he cried and they both dissolved into fresh peals of laughter. Flynn realized that it was the first time she had been truly happy since leaving her home.

"Come on, let's go find your fellow recruits Ser Jory and Daveth and get started on preparing for your joining. Once it's over we can grab a pint and you can show me a few more of your _amazing_ tricks." His eyes widened once he realized how inappropriate his statement sounded. He blushed and began to stammer an apology. Even his embarrassment was charming.

"I'm afraid it will take more than a few pints for me to reveal all of my _amazing tricks_." She grinned at him mischievously, "A wine barrel with a funnel might do the trick though."

"Perhaps we can pilfer one back at the mess hall," he laughed. "Daveth and Jory should be somewhere around there anyway."

She followed as he led her down the stairs and through a seemingly endless sea of tents. Once they pushed through the bustle, he fell in beside her and they walked together along the heavily wooded outskirts of the camp.

"I really would like to thank you properly for saving my hide back there. I'm not sure what that mage had planned, but I can't imagine it was going to be pleasant," he said seriously. "I sometimes allow my mouth to run away from me."

"No worries. I have the same tendency myself," she laughed, "Besides, that mage seemed like a right prat. Why was he so upset with you?"

"I suppose he didn't take too kindly to a former Templar bringing him orders from the Grand Cleric. That or perhaps he just didn't like the look of my face."

"Oh come now, your face isn't _that_ bad..."

"Ha ha...veeerry funny," He shoved her playfully, "I did not realize that Duncan was recruiting jesters now."

"I was a special exception. He was particularly impressed with my juggling."

"Oh, that will be a fantastic darkspawn distraction, I'm sure," he chuckled.

Flynn grinned up at him, admiring the way his light amber eyes lit up when he laughed. It felt as if she were having a conversation with an old friend rather than someone that she had met only moments before. "Forgive me for saying, but you do not seem to be the Templar type. Most of the Templars I know are very stoic, pious men...You seem far too pleasant to have been a mage hunter," she mused.

"Mage hunter? Me? Ha! I never took the rights to become a full Templar. Honestly, as an initiate I just stood about in fancy armor making sure that the Circle mages retained control of their powers. But maybe you have a point...Mage hunter sounds much more mysterious and alluring than mage babysitter," he chuckled.

They stopped for a moment underneath a towering oak tree. Flynn offered Alistair her water-skin and he accepted it gratefully.

"So how did you go from Templar Initiate to Warden?" she asked as he took a long draw from the canteen.

"I owe Duncan everything. I was sent to the chantry to train with the Templar Order when I was very young. Duncan recruited me right before I was to take my vows."

"Do you enjoy being a Warden?"

"I love it," he said sincerely. "I never really felt like I belonged in the chantry. I was constantly in trouble for goofing off and pulling pranks on the senior Templars."

"Goofing off and pranks, you say?" Flynn grinned at him mischievously. "I think you and I are going to get along famously..."

He offered her his hand to step over a small creek. She took it with a smile and leapt across agilely. Once she found her footing, he released her hand and they stepped away from one another sheepishly. He cleared his throat and nervously ran a hand through his hair; the gesture was very endearing.

"So how about yourself? Duncan is notoriously meticulous about selecting his recruits. How did you catch his attention? I mean other than your obvious skill with a bow and aptitude for witty banter?"

"You forgot my undeniable charm and stunning good looks."

"Oh, of course! How thoughtless of me," he chuckled. "Well whatever the reason, I'm glad you'll be joining our ranks."

Flynn's smile began to fade as the memory of the massacre that had brought her to the wardens suddenly flooded over her. Alistair noticed that she had fallen behind and turned to find her sitting on the steep creek embankment. She fiddled with her shin guard buckles to avoid his gaze and self-consciously tried to wipe tears away from her eyes.

"I'm sorry Flynn. I didn't mean to say anything to upset you," He stammered.

"No, it's not that, Alistair; you have nothing to apologize for at all. I just...I suppose it's a story for another time." She stood and brushed the grass from her pants and they continued further into the camp.

They finally found Ser Jory and Daveth mulling about in front of the main entrance to the mess hall. Daveth, a small weasely fellow, grinned predatorily at Flynn as they approached. His beady eyes slid over her body.

"Well, well, look what we have here Ser Jory. It seems the Maker _does_ answer prayers."

Ser Jory, an equally repellent man with a bulbous nose and very unfortunate hairline, guffawed idiotically. So much for her presumption that all Grey Wardens were tall and handsome like in the books her father brought her. She shot a sideways glance at Alistair who was running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair again...well perhaps the books were not completely off base. Flynn dropped her eyes and pretended to be incredibly interested in a smudge on her boot when he turned back to face her.

Daveth snickered something clearly lewd and inappropriate into Ser Jory's ear, sending the portly man into a fit of girlish giggles.

"If you two are quite finished," Alistair grumbled impatiently, "Duncan has recruited each of you for the honor of becoming grey wardens. Our first task is to prepare for your joining ceremony. We will be venturing into the wilds to retrieve a cache of documents containing ancient Grey Warden treaties and three vials of darkspawn blood."

"Hold on a minute," Ser Jory sputtered, "Darkspawn blood? As in from actual darkspawn? Are you mad?"

Flynn shook her head disgustedly...receding hairline and a coward.

"Well, what did you expect Ser Jory? Did you think that all of these soldiers were gathering here to sing jaunty tunes and dance gaily about a maypole? Come on, the blight isn't going to defeat itself." She picked up her pack and set off down the path towards the blockade.

Daveth whistled lecherously under his breath as he watched her walk away, "You know I think I might like being a Grey Warden after all."

Alistair gave him a withering look and jogged to catch up with her. They made their way out of the encampment and into the woods.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a beautiful afternoon and Flynn could not help but enjoy herself as she walked side by side with Alistair down the light dappled path. Daveth and Jory followed close behind whispering and snickering to one another.

"Go on, ask her," Ser Jory goaded.

"She's more like to skewer me than answer," Daveth whispered loudly.

Flynn shot them an angry look, "Is there something I can assist you with, _gentlemen_?"

"Well, I was just wondering... if I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" The pair fell to the ground howling with laughter.

"Oh, I have something I'd love to hold against you alright," Flynn seethed; her fingers itched for the dagger at her waist. Alistair sensed the pending bloodshed and stepped between them.

"Daveth, why don't you and Ser Jorey scout the side roads ahead and make sure everything is safe," Alistair suggested. "I sense no darkspawn in the area, but this path is often set upon by bandits."

"Ah, I see how it is, eh?" He elbowed Jorey in the ribs. "Come on Ser Jorey, we best be on our way and give the lovebirds some alone time."

"Oh, please let me stab him...come on, just the tip," Flynn muttered as they watched the pair saunter off into the woods.

"Don't pay them any mind. They are just trying to get a rise out of you."

"So where exactly did Duncan find that charming duo?" she huffed.

"Ser Jory won a tournament in Redcliff. Apparently he did well enough to catch Duncan's attention, but he has been here for three weeks and has done nothing but eat and complain."

"Why am I not surprised?" Flynn snorted.

"As for Daveth, Duncan caught him trying to cut his purse in Denerim. Duncan was so impressed by his gall that he conscripted him right off the gallows."

"Why would the Grey Wardens welcome thieves into their ranks?" she scoffed. "I thought Wardens were renowned for their honesty and virtue."

"Oh I don't know about that. Grey Warden history is peppered with some less than savory individuals. Some of the most respected wardens started out as pick-pockets and even murderers."

"Murderers?"

Alistair nodded. "The key to recruitment is being able to look past an initiate's flaws to their true worth. Duncan himself was conscripted after fatally wounding a senior grey warden in a botched theft attempt."

"You're kidding!" Flynn gasped. Duncan? Flynn stared at Alistair in stunned shock. The calm, collected Warden Leader was a murderer? Impossible.

"Now he is the most respected Warden in the Fereldan order. It just goes to show that someone's actions do not necessarily reflect their true character. All men have the capacity for good and evil."

"That is very true. I myself have been prone to evil from time to time," Flynn gave him a crooked grin.

"Oh, is that so? What dastardly deeds have you committed?" he goaded.

Flynn looked around and leaned towards him conspiratorially, "Well, I don't like to brag, but once my friend Roderick and I rigged a bucket of horse manure so that it fell on my brother when he opened his bedroom door."

"Fiend!" he cried.

"That's not all either. One time I put a June-bug down the back of my nanny's dress."

"May the Maker have mercy on your soul," he whispered and they burst into laughter.

Alistair stopped laughing abruptly. He put out an arm to stop Flynn as they approached a dense thicket. Flynn could see his body tense as he cocked his head to the wind, listening for something.

"Is everything alright?" She whispered nervously.

"Just a moment," he mumbled. Flynn watched the woods warily until he finally let out a breath of relief.

"I felt the presence of a darkspawn scout. I don't believe it detected us, but we should move away from the main road just to be safe." She followed him away from the main road. He held back a branch covering a side path that lead further into the woods. Flynn ducked under and they continued together down the small dirt trail

"So, you can sense the darkspawn? Is that a trait that all grey wardens possess, or are you some kind of darkspawn sensing phenomenon?"

He chuckled, "Alas, the only innate talent I possess is a profound knowledge of fine cheeses. Once you complete your joining you will be able to sense them as well."

"I'm not sure if being constantly aware of darkspawn is something I'm looking forward to," she shuddered.

"I can't blame you. After my first encounter as a warden, I laid awake in my bunk for hours, unable to wipe the stain of their presence from my mind. I wish there were something I could do to prepare you for facing them..but.." He frowned as he stared silently into the distance.

"Well maybe you can do an imitation for me. You know, to prepare me for the horror?" Flynn offered in hopes rousing him from his dark contemplation.

He turned and grinned at her, "Oh, did I say that my only talent was a knowledge of cheeses? I am also a very convincing darkspawn impersonator. Fair warning, you may need to change your small clothes after this." He screwed his face into a snarl and clawed at the air, hissing and spitting comically.

"Oh Maker help me! It is a real darkspawn! Where oh where has Alistair gone? Surely he could defend me from such an abomination!" Flynn doubled over laughing.

"What? Why are you laughing? Are you not terrified? You mean to tell me that _this_ doesn't shake you to your very core?" He hissed at her menacingly.

Flynn was so distracted by his antics that her foot caught on a gnarled root and she began to tumble forward. Alistair grabbed her by the arm, but the momentum sent them both sprawling forward to the ground.

"Maker, Alistair I'm so sorry!" She tried to stand, but was horrified to discover that the buckles from their armor had somehow tangled together.

"Here, hold still a moment and I'll just..." Alistair said and tried to pull away. His maneuver only managed to roll Flynn on top of himself. Their faces were inches away from one another. His eyes met hers and she could feel her face burning crimson. The only thing that could possibly make this moment worse was if...

"Oi, lovebirds! I hope I'm not interrupting, but we found something," Daveth snickered as he strolled towards them.

Flynn fumbled frantically with the buckles until she finally managed to detach herself. She bounded to her feet and sputtered an incoherent apology over her shoulder as she fled past Daveth into the woods. How could she be such a bumbling idiot?! She decided the only logical thing to do would be to hide out in the forest until the blight overtook her. Yes, she would find a nice hole somewhere and spend her remaining days reliving the shame of that moment over and over again.

"I suppose that is the Maker's way of punishing us for laughing at that mage when he fell into the fountain," A sheepish voice said from behind her.

Flynn froze, too mortified to turn around.

"You dropped your pack. I managed to grab it before Daveth could pilfer anything. I did have to wrestle a pair of your small clothes away from him though." He tossed the bag to her.

She couldn't stop herself from snorting a laugh, "Great, so you mean to tell me that not only have I mounted you, but that you've also seen my underpants."

"Personally, I'm surprised your father hasn't shown up yet to threaten me with a crossbow."

They both laughed. Flynn was relieved that they seemed to have put the awkwardness behind them so easily.

"Now come on, Daveth and Ser Jory say they found something that we need to see."

They returned to the main path and found Daveth sifting through the burning remains of a supply wagon. The charred, half-eaten bodies of soldiers littered the road. Flynn had seen death, but never anything like the massacre before her.

"What in Andraste's name could do something like this?" Ser Jory stuttered and then turned to vomit into the bushes.

One of the mangled bodies let out a groan and Flynn rushed to his side. The knight was still alive. Flynn gently rolled him onto his back and gasped; he was wearing the Cousland sigil. This was one of Fergus's men.

"My lady," the soldier coughed.

"Lady?" her companions exclaimed together in surprise. Flynn glared back at them fiercely.

"What are you doing here, Ms. Cousland?" The soldier asked raggedly.

"Cousland?" They cried together again.

"Enough you three!" She grasped the knight's hand. "Please Ser, where is my brother?"

"I'm afraid I do not know, my lady. The darkspawn ambushed our caravan and we were scattered."

Flynn felt a tentative amount of relief. If her brother was not with these men, than there was hope that he could still be alive. Flynn grabbed bandages from her pack and tightly dressed the soldier's wounds. With Alistair's help, she brought him to his feet.

"Thank you, my lady. I think I can make it back to camp on my own now. I need to deliver a report to commander Logain on what happened here."

Flynn watched as the man slowly began to limp his way back towards the camp. She turned back to find her companions staring at her in stunned silence.

"What?" she asked irritably.

Daveth's mouth fell open in shocked horror, "You're a Cousland? Oh maker, I've been harassing the daughter of a Teyrn. I'll be put in the stocks for sure now." He fell to his knees groveling for her mercy, "I meant nothing by it, my lady, I swear!"

"Oh get up you idiot," she kicked at him angrily.

She grabbed her pack and huffed irately down the path. It never failed, as soon as someone found out about her family's title she became a social pariah...or even worse... the subject of unsolicited wooing. Roderick had been the only person she had ever met who treated her as a friend and equal. Maker, she missed him so much.

"My lady, wait!" Alistair ran to catch her and touched her arm lightly.

"My lady?" She spun around with angry tears in her eyes. "Wonderful. Now you are going to treat me differently too, aren't you? This is exactly why I didn't say anything in the first place." She sat down on a rotten log that had fallen across the path. "I have spent my entire life with everyone tiptoeing around me because of my father's title. I guess it was foolish to think when I came here that I could start over," she sighed.

Alistair sat next to her tentatively, "If it's any consolation, I know what it feels like to wish you were treated normally. I'm a bastard... and before you start with the jokes I mean literally. My mother was a serving girl at the castle; she died soon after I was born. I never met my father. When I was sent to the chantry to train with the Templars all of the other boys looked down on me because of it. I felt I had to prove myself twice as much as anyone else for something that I had absolutely no control over."

"I'm so sorry Alistair, and here I am complaining about something so trifling." She wiped her eyes self-consciously. "I just thought if you didn't know that you would...I don't know. Like me for who I am, instead of what I was."

"You don't have to worry about that. I barely know you and I already think that you are the most remarkable woman I have ever met."

Flynn blushed and smiled up at him shyly. "I suppose I do have a way with first impressions...but wait a minute; didn't you grow up in the Templar order surrounded by only men? Your standard for comparison can't be very high."

"Hey! Come on, I have met women before. Many in fact! At least five... and I will have you know that of those five women, you are definitely the best. Well, perhaps a close second..."

She chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Now come on, we need to..." He stopped suddenly and leapt to his feet.

"Alistair, what's wrong?"

"Darkspawn. They will be here any minute."

Flynn scanned the forest. Everything was unnaturally still. The only sound she could hear was her own heart pounding loudly in her chest. She grabbed her bow and started to sprint back down the path towards Daveth and Jory.

Twisted nightmares suddenly erupted from the ground all around them. Ser Jory stood frozen in shock, his sword dangling from his limp hand. Flynn had no time to be terrified. She leapt into him, knocking him to the side as a hurlock slammed an enormous ax into the ground where he had been a moment before. "Dammit, Jory, pull yourself together! You're going to get us killed!" She shouted and fired an arrow into the neck of a darkspawn that had Daveth pinned against a tree.

"Flynn, behind you!" Alistair cried.

She ducked as the hurlock swung his ax at her. She felt the rush of air from the blade as it narrowly swept over her head. She rolled between the monster's legs and stabbed it in the throat with one of her daggers. She cried out as something clutched at her leg from behind and pulled her to the ground. Flynn could smell the fetid stench of its breath as it tore at her chest-guard with its claws. She brought her elbow into the beast's face and scrambled to her feet. Alistair lunged forward with his shield, and shoved his sword into its throat.

"Thanks," Flynn panted, "You're my knight in shining armor..Well..Knight in blood spattered armor. Oh, you know what I mean."

He grinned at her as she fired an arrow over his shoulder into another darkspawn's chest. They stood back to back, as another wave of darkspawn surrounded them. The onslaught was relentless. It seemed for every beast she fired an arrow into that two more would appear to take its place. It felt as if hours had passed before the last darkspawn finally fell. Flynn collapsed to the ground, gasping to regain her breath.

"Well...That was fun," she panted.

"Oh, the fun is just beginning," Alistair wheezed as he sank down next to her. He handed her a worn cloth to wipe her blood spattered face, "Just wait until we run into an ogre." He pulled three vials from his pack and began collecting blood from the fallen darkspawn. He corked each bottle carefully before tucking them back in his bag.

"So what are you going to do with the blood?" Daveth panted.

"It's a part of your joining ceremony. Duncan will tell you more once we are back at camp. Come on, we need to retrieve those documents and get back before nightfall." He pulled Flynn to her feet and they continued further into the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

They came upon the ruins of the Warden keep as the sun was sinking low behind the trees. The tall decaying spires of the towers slumped towards one another across the weed-choked moat. The hair on the back of Flynn's neck prickled up anxiously as she stared up at the black holes of the arrows slits above her. She had an uneasy feeling that someone, or something, was watching them. She drew her bow and stepped cautiously through the splintered gates. Her eyes scanned the rubble for any sign of movement.

"Everything alright, Flynn?" Alistair asked quietly.

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. "Yes, of course. I'm just being paranoid, I suppose."

"Let's find those treaties and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps," Ser Jory muttered. For once Flynn agreed with him.

They spent the remaining daylight sifting through the ruins for the treaties. The stars had begun to shine dimly before Flynn finally discovered a rotten chest nestled under an awning near the gatehouse. Alistair rapped the base of his sword against the rusted lock and it crumbled apart easily. He knelt down and pushed the heavy top open. It was empty. "Damn. They were supposed to be here," Alistair he huffed angrily.

"They're gone," Ser Jory said.

"Brilliant deduction, Jory," Flynn said flatly. She looked up as a small cascade of pebbles rained down from one of the gatehouse walls sending a murder of crows into the air, cawing indignantly. Flynn caught the vague outline of a wolf slinking back into the shadows behind the wall. She knocked an arrow and crept towards the gatehouse door. The hinges screamed shrilly as she tentatively pushed it open. A pair of sinister yellow eyes glared at her from the darkness. Flynn pulled her bowstring back and lined up her shot.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A voice like honey and venom demurred as the owner of the yellow eyes materialized from the shadows. Flynn lowered her bow and retreated a few steps. She watched uneasily as a young woman with pallid skin and raven hair glided towards her. The woman carried a gnarled wooden staff at her side; the sun-bleached skull of some unfamiliar animal was bound to its tip with leather strips.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned. Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of... easy prey?"

Alistair pulled Flynn from the doorway to his side. His hand hovered cautiously over his sword.

"Be careful Flynn, she looks chastened," he muttered under his breath. "I think she's a mage."

"She's a witch, she is!" Jory clumsily unsheathed his broadsword and pointed it at her menacingly.

The woman looked at him evenly and turned back to face Flynn, "What of you? Do you frighten as easily as these scared boys do? Come, tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"My name is Flynn. These are my companions Alistair and Daveth...That fool cowering behind his sword is Ser Jory. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"My, what manners. You may call me Morrigan," the woman replied with an air of amusement.

"We are here only to retrieve a cache of documents that belong to the Grey Wardens. Once we reclaim them we will be on our way, you have my word."

"You seek the treaties?"

"Wait, what do you know of the treaties?" Alistair asked suspiciously. "Those documents are the property of the Wardens. If you stole them..."

"How can one steal something that has been long abandoned? I did not take your treaties, Warden. Therefore, you may point your baseless accusations and idle threats elsewhere. My mother has them. If you wish I can take you to her and you may ask for them."

"We can't follow her! She's luring us to her hut to turn us into toads or grind our bones to dust for her potions," Jory cried.

Flynn pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Ser Jory, if you are so frightened you can remain here. Maybe the darkspawn will carry you away so we won't have to listen to your drivel anymore..."

Alistair leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "We should get the treaties, but I dislike this. Her appearance here is certainly convenient isn't it?"

"I know, but what choice do we have?" She turned back to Morrigan, "Lead the way."

Morrigan led them through the dense woods to a small hut covered in a thick blanket of brambles and vines. Flynn was sure they would never have noticed it at all had there not been an old woman collecting herbs from the overgrown garden.

"Mother, these people wish to..." Morrigan began.

"I know why they are here, girl," the woman interrupted. She stood and wiped her hands on her apron. "Welcome Wardens, I am Flemeth." The unsettling smile she gave them turned Flynn's blood to ice.

"Flemeth? As in Flemeth the witch of the wilds?! My mum used to tell me stories about her when I misbehaved. She turns into a dragon and snatches bad children from their beds to eat their souls." Ser Jory began to swoon, "Oh Maker help us, we're doomed!"

"If she really is the witch of the wilds do you want to go about making her mad you dolt?" Daveth hissed and smacked him across the back of his head.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that we're supposed to believe that you are an ancient legendary witch, and that you somehow knew we were coming?" Alistair asked incredulously.

"Believe what you will, boy. Open one's eyes or shut them tight, either way one is a fool," She cackled. "I know that you are here seeking the Grey Warden treaties."

The woman withdrew into the hut and returned with a small ancient-looking chest.

"Here, I have kept them safe for you."

"But why?" Flynn asked.

"The darkspawn threat is growing and the Grey Wardens are the only ones who can stop it. We can only remain hidden here for so long before even we are overtaken." She handed the chest to Flynn. "Now Morrigan, escort your guests back to their camp. The night is coming."

Morrigan silently guided them back through the woods until they could see the flickering light of countless campfires. Flynn turned to thank her, but she had disappeared back into the forest.

"Well...That was certainly interesting," Alistair mumbled. "Come on, let's find Duncan and prepare you for your joining ceremony."


	5. Chapter 5

Flynn walked at Alistair's side as they meandered through the campgrounds to Duncan's tent. He disappeared inside and emerged a few minutes later with Duncan and an ornate chalice. They followed Duncan back out the main gates to the steps of an ancient temple nestled in the outskirts of the woods. Dense sprays of crawling vines curled up its white rock columns. Flynn could sense the presence of archaic magic crackling in the dusty air. The veil was thin here.

Duncan brushed away moss from a small marble pedestal and placed the chalice onto it. Flynn looked over to find Alistair watching her anxiously.

"Is there something I should be worried about?" she whispered to him quietly.

"I..um..No. Of course not," he stammered.

"You don't sound very confident."

Duncan pulled the bottles of darkspawn blood they had collected from his pack and poured them into the cup. Flynn swallowed nervously.

"You'll be fine. I promise." Alistair placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Duncan faced them somberly.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered the taint."

"Wait, you mean we're going to drink the blood of those creatures?" Ser Jory gasped.

"As the first grey wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory. Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint. We can sense them and use this power to slay the arch demon. I will not lie. We grey wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now, rather than later. Not all who drink the blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed."

"We could die? No one told me that we could die!" Ser Jory squawked.

Duncan ignored him and continued, "We speak only a few words prior to the joining. Nevertheless, these words have been said from the first. Alistair, if you would?"

He squeezed Flynn's shoulder and stepped forward.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you," Alistair recited solemnly.

Duncan handed the chalice to Daveth. Flynn looked at him with begrudging admiration as he took the cup with a steady hand. He was a lecherous ass, but she could not question his bravery. He drank deeply and handed the cup back to Duncan.

"Hell, that wasn't so bad," he said through a grimace, "The swill they served us in the Denerim dungeons was..worse..than.." He suddenly began to cough violently. The others watched in stunned horror as his body convulsed and twisted. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he buckled to the ground, motionless.

"I am sorry Daveth." Duncan said sadly. He turned to Ser Jory with the chalice. Ser Jory began to back away, his eyes darting wildly.

"No. You ask too much. I won't!" He pulled his sword and swung it towards them madly. Alistair yanked Flynn back as Duncan slipped agilely under the swing and sunk his dagger into Jory's chest.

"There is no turning back. I am sorry Ser Jory."

He fell to the ground across Daveth's body with a dull thud. Duncan resheathed his dagger and finally turned to Flynn.

"Are you ready, Flynn Cousland?"

He handed her the chalice. Alistair met her eyes and nodded encouragingly. A strange calm came over her. She found that she was no longer afraid.

"Well, bottoms up," she said unenthusiastically and took a long draw from the cup. The metallic taste of the blood made her stomach churn; she could feel the warmth of it spreading through her veins.

"Flynn? Are you alright?" Alistair asked anxiously.

"I feel..." she began.

Suddenly every nerve in her body ignited. The pain was excruciating. Her legs gave out and her head hit the temple's marble landing with a sickening crack. Her hazel eyes glazed over to an eerie, cloudy white.

"What's happening to her, Duncan? Is she going to be alright?"

"I'm afraid that is for the Maker to decide, Alistair."

Flynn was standing at the precipice of a cliff overlooking a vast lake of fire. Endless waves of darkspawn writhed together in the flames. They began to cry out in a deafening chorus like some perverse choir of nightmares. She stood petrified in terror as a colossal dragon erupted from the fiery pit below. The beast soared into the sky before perching beside her on the lip of the gorge. She felt the heat radiating from its body and could smell the sulpherous reek of its breath. Flynn reached out a shaking hand and ran it along one of the dragon's shimmering black scales. It twisted its long, sinewy neck and looked down at her with eyes like bottomless pits.

"Maker, help us," she whispered as the darkness consumed her.

Duncan and Alistair watched helplessly as Flynn writhed against the marble landing. A look of absolute terror etched across her face. Her spine began to arch away from the ground until it appeared she was almost levitating.

"Maker help us," she whispered and collapsed back against the ground. Her body was completely still.

"Is she?"

Duncan shook his head gravely.

Alistair knelt over her and pushed his fingers against her throat. He felt nothing. He reached out to brush her hair back from her eyes. "I'm so sorry Flynn," he whispered hoarsely.

At the sound of her name, Flynn's eyes sprang open and she shot up with a haggard gasp. Her forehead collided into Alistair's.

"Ow!' They exclaimed in unison.

"Wait, you're alive!" he cried. He picked her up, hugged her to his chest and spun her around.

She laughed and grinned at him feebly. "Easy Alistair, I don't want to taste that blood coming back up."

"Thank the Maker! I thought for sure you had died!"

"Ha, you didn't really think I'd be killed by something as trivial as a little blood did you? You aren't getting rid of me that easily."

Alistair set her back down gingerly and she tried to stand. He caught her by the arms as her legs began to give way again. With his help, she stood and faced Duncan.

"I had a vision. I saw the arch demon. It..spoke...to the darkspawn. It felt as if I was right there."

"Once you complete the joining you become conscious of the darkspawn and their thoughts," Duncan replied gravely.

"You mean to tell me that what I saw was actually happening? There were so many! We can't possibly have a chance at stopping them."

"Now you understand what we are truly facing. The king is under the impression that we will defeat this blight with one battle," Duncan shook his head sadly. "I fear that his over confidence may be our undoing."

Alistair handed her a delicate silver chain attached to a glass vial filled with blood. "All who survive the joining wear a pendant filled with darkspawn blood."

"How cheery," she muttered.

"And quite stylish too," Alistair said with a grin.

She lifted her hair and he fastened the pendant around her neck. His fingers lingered at the clasp for a moment. He stepped back, admiring the faint ruby glow of the amulet against her skin in the flickering torchlight.

"I must meet with Commander Logain to discuss tomorrow's battle plan. Alistair, I trust you can find your way back to the campgrounds?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course," he replied hazily.

"Congratulations, Flynn Cousland. Welcome to the wardens," Duncan smiled and patted her on the back. They watched as he jogged back down the path and out of sight behind the fortress walls. Flynn looked up at Alistair with an impish grin.

"So I am a Warden now? You're sure there are no other monsters to battle or unpleasant bodily fluids to drink?

"Nope. You're in the clear...for the moment," he laughed maniacally.

"Fine, but just so you know I'm drawing the line at darkspawn urine."

"Oh, don't worry, we save the urine for your ten year anniversary."

"At least it's something to look forward too," she said through a yawn.

"Come on; let's get you to bed young lady. We have a big day in front of us tomorrow; People to meet, ale to drink, and some sort of battle against a vicious horde of monsters or something." He started down the marble steps. Flynn tried to follow but stumbled weakly to her knees. Alistair knelt down next to her and she grabbed his arm to steady herself.

"Are you alright? You hit your head pretty hard when you fell earlier."

"I'm fine. Just a little tired is all," she replied. She hoped the lie sounded more convincing than she thought it did.

"Nice try, but I remember how terrible I felt after my joining. I slept for three straight days afterwards. Here, let me help you," He scooped her up into his arms and began to carry her back towards the camp.

"Carrying a helpless girl back to her tent, eh? People are going to talk," She laughed.

"Oh, let them. I'm sure the other Wardens are already going to have a field day as it is. They began teasing me the moment we received word that Duncan was bringing you."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's the duty of the Junior Warden to prepare the initiates, and you're the first female recruit we've had in the Fereldan order for years."

"Is that so?" she asked, a little surprised.

"As a matter of fact, I have only ever met one other female Warden, and she was a representative from Weisshaupt. So, needless to say, you're a bit of a rarity. It also doesn't help that you're...well..you know..."

"That I'm what?"

"Well..so..pretty," He said sheepishly and looked away so she wouldn't notice him blushing.

"Flatterer," she laughed softly.

He nodded to the guard as they passed through the fortress gates. The camp was quiet. The clamor and bustle replaced by soft snores and the chirping of crickets. Flynn swayed gently in Alistair's arms. She could feel the urge to sleep tugging at her persistently. For the first time since leaving her home, Flynn felt safe.

"Alistair, I... I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. I'm glad it was you who was with me tonight," she whispered drowsily. Alistair looked down and saw that she had finally nodded off.

"I'm glad too," he whispered and drew her a little closer to his chest.

He pushed open the flap to the tent Duncan had assigned her and laid her down gently on top of her cot. He knelt beside her for a moment, admiring the way her long, dark eyelashes fanned out above her freckled cheeks. She looked so small and fragile as she slept. He pulled a worn blanket from his pack and laid it over her.

"Goodnight Flynn," he whispered. He tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and retreated quietly from the tent.


	6. Chapter 6

Flynn awoke the next morning sore and dazed. She groaned miserably as she sat up and attempted to stretch the tight coil that was once her back. Maker, it felt as if she had been run down by a stampede of hurlocks. The last time she had felt this awful was her sixteenth birthday when she had snuck into town with Roderick and somehow convinced the local tavern owner to serve them ale. They drank so much that the next morning they woke up in the middle of a strange cornfield. Neither could agree on how they had gotten there. They had stumbled back to her family's estate, stopping periodically to vomit side-by-side into the bushes and to swear to one another that they would never touch alcohol again.

The memory of Roderick stung like salt in a wound.

She gingerly stood and bent over to begin the task of unbuckling her armor. The frigid air stung her bare skin. She pulled the blanket from her cot and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Huh, that's odd," she mumbled as she thumbed one of the frayed edges. "This isn't mine."

A horn sounded from somewhere outside. She could hear the soldiers beginning to mill about in the tents surrounding hers. It seemed the mystery of the strange blanket would have to wait. She washed in an icy basin of water that someone had left for her and changed back into her light chainmail. Ugh, what she wouldn't give for a proper bath and a hot meal.

"Flynn, are you awake," Alistair asked softly from outside her tent, "I brought you some porridge."

She smiled. Well that took care of one problem.

"Come in, Alistair. I was just about to come find you."

He pushed the tent flap open. The early morning sun sent rays of light dancing off his armor and illuminated his pale amber eyes. He set down a carafe of milk and handed Flynn the porridge. She tucked in greedily.

"How are you feeling?" he asked anxiously.

"Fine...but I had the strangest dream. I joined this eccentric ancient order and they made me drink monster blood. Oh, and I saw a witch of the wilds and talked to a dragon."

He laughed, "Wow that sounds awful. Did the dream at least have some pleasant parts?"

"Let's see, I saved an incredibly debonair knight with perfect hair from an evil mage and he showered me with lavish gifts of blood necklaces and porridge."

He grinned impishly, "Perfect hair you say?"

"But then he got cocky about his hair and I had to kick him out of my tent."

"Bah, I don't like this dream any more. Let's go back to the debonair part." He sat down next to her on the cot. "But really Flynn, do you feel alright?"

"Honestly, I feel terrible, but the porridge is helping... and I guess the company is not too bad either."

"Once you finish we should get moving. Duncan wants us to meet with King Cailan."

"Ugh...I'd rather drink a jug of darkspawn blood." Flynn set the empty porridge bowl down and took a swallow of the milk.

She grabbed her bow and quiver and they set out together into the morning haze. Duncan was already speaking with King Cailan by the time they reached the camp command center. Other advisors were milling about, all tending to various preparations for the upcoming battle.

"Flynn! Just the Grey Warden I wanted to see. I hear congratulations are in order!" The king clapped her on the back hard enough send her staggering forward. "Who's your friend?" He gave her a sly wink, "Why look at you, not a day in the camp and you already have a suitor!"

"What, I..What?" she sputtered, "No, this is Alistair my fellow warden."

"Splendid!" He grabbed the blushing Alistair's hand and shook it merrily. "Come and allow me to introduce you to Teryn Logain."

Flynn's heart caught in her throat as they followed the king over to a tall, formidable looking man bent over a table covered in maps. His long black hair spilled over his shoulders. He straightened as they approached and gave the king a distasteful frown.

"Cailan, you are over an hour late. We are at war. We do not have time for you to be lollygagging about, boy."

"Pishaw, Logain! It is always so serious with you! We have nothing to fear with the wardens at our side. Speaking of which, allow me to introduce you to the newest Grey Warden, Flynn Cousland."

"It is such an honor. I never would have imagined I would be meeting Fereldan's greatest hero," Flynn said nervously and dropped into a low curtsey. The Teryn nodded dismissively and turned back to his maps.

"Allow me to gather the other advisors and we will begin," Cailan said and jogged away.

"You didn't curtsey when you met me," Alistair whispered in mock indignation. "Am I not worthy of a curtsey?"

"Shh!" She hissed, "I'll give you a curtsey _after_ we finish meeting with my childhood idol."

"Pff. I don't want your pity curtsey," he huffed. Flynn elbowed him and followed Duncan over to the table where the others were now waiting. Cailan reappeared shortly with the head of the Circle of Magi and Redcliff envoys.

"Now that you have finally graced us with your presence, Cailan," Teryn Logain grumbled, "It is time to discuss the strategy for this evening's battle,"

"What is there to discuss that has not already been decided?" Cailan scoffed. "The king's guard and I will man the front lines with the wardens."

"Are you sure that is wise, your majesty?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Of course! I can't wait to ride into battle with true heroes of legend. I'll have to make sure my bard is nearby to document my heroics."

Flynn shot Alistair a sideways glance and rolled her eyes.

"I am tasking Flynn and her warden friend here...what was it again? Alfred? Allen? Fie, I am terrible with names, with the duty of lighting the beacon at the top of the west tower to signal your troops to attack the darkspawn horde from behind."

"Wait, you want us to light a beacon?" Flynn asked incredulously. "What about the battle? Won't we be needed in the fight?"

"I wouldn't trust this task to just anyone. It is crucial that the beacon is lit to signal the reinforcements to attack. Besides, I have already come up with the lyric for your part in my bard's epic, ' _The Wardens lit the beacon's flame and loudly chanted Cailan's name_.' It is perfect! Come Logain, the sun is sweltering. We will discuss tactics further over ale back in my tent. I'll see you after the battle, Flynn. I'm sure we have much to catch up on!" He clapped Flynn on the shoulder and strolled back to his tent with his advisors. The Teryn glared at his back venomously before falling in behind.

"Duncan, he can't be serious. We want to fight along with you and the other wardens. Any idiot with half a brain could light that beacon," Alistair sulked.

"I'm afraid we must honor the king's wishes," Duncan said and cleared his throat impatiently. "Come, we have our own preparations to make for the battle," he said and set off back to his tent.

They followed Duncan back towards the campgrounds where he gave Alistair instructions to take Flynn to the blacksmith and outfit her with new Warden armor. He then bid them farewell to attend to organizing the other wardens for the fight to come.

Flynn could barely contain her excitement as she followed Alistair into the crowded armory. He led her to the back of the squat building where a grizzled blacksmith was hammering away at a broken helm. He looked up as they approached and wiped his enormous brow with a sweat stained cloth.

"Mornin' Alistair! You missed quite the game of cards last night! Templars brought along this apostate they captured, Anders, I think his name was. Fellow drank everyone under the table. He had all these stories about girls from the Circle Tower; Stories bawdy enough to make an Antivan blush!" The smith guffawed, unconscious of Flynn's presence.

Alistair cleared his throat and gestured frantically to his companion, but the smith continued obliviously.

"You wouldn't believe..some..of wild things they get up...to..," the smith tapered off once he finally noticed Flynn standing beside Alistair. His ears turned a fiery red.

"Oh pardon me miss! I didn't see you there. You must be the new recruit Duncan sent word on. You'll have to forgive me. I haven't outfitted a member of the fairer sex in well over ten years, so our reserves and my manners are sorely lacking. Welcome to the Wardens!"

"Thank you," Flynn laughed and took his extended hand graciously. The smith retreated to a back room and returned with a small bundle.

"I've been digging around our stocks all morning and made some modifications to some Elvin armor I found."

Flynn untied the bundle and unfolded a set of light leather armor.

"Give it a try on when you get back to your bunk and let me know if I need to make any adjustments."

"Thank you, it is wonderful! I'm sure everything will be perfect," she beamed as she admired the intricate stitching.

"Well, let me know. Or I'm sure you could give her some help out with any too tight buckles, Alistair," the smith gave him a good-natured wink.

"I'm sure she'll be able to handle her own buckles, Henric.." Alistair said with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm sure," the smith laughed. "I'll see you after the battle tonight in the mess hall. Oh, and try not to get yourself killed, Alistair, you still owe me five silver!"

"Quite the character, that one," Alistair chuckled as they left the building and headed back to Flynn's tent. "He's been the Warden Smith for over thirty years. I'll have to introduce you to everyone else after things settle down tonight."

"I can't wait to clean you out in cards," she replied with a mischievous smile.

"Oh-ho, Big words from such a small girl! I like your confidence though. It will make beating you so much sweeter," he laughed and held her tent flap open for her.

He waited outside as she entered to change. Flynn set the bundle down on her cot and slipped out of her worn chainmail. She carefully unfolded and inspected each piece of her new armor before buckling it on. She was delighted to find that it fit as if it were fashioned just for her. The armor was crafted with pliable leather and a fine silver mesh that would allow for much better mobility. She grabbed her bow and pulled back the string to her anchor point, pleased at the flexibility in the joints. She pulled on her soft leather leggings and buckled on the silver plated leg guards. She picked up the helm and regarded it for a moment before tossing it back on the cot. She had always found helmets to be more of a hindrance than help.

Flynn tightened the buckles on her armguard and smiled as she thumbed the embossed Griffin Crest emblazed across it. It was strange to think that after years of dreaming and training that she was finally a Grey Warden. The moment felt bittersweet. She had always envisioned that her parents and Roderick would be there to share this moment with her. Her grief began to swell up inside her. "Flynn?" Alistair called from outside. "Are you decent yet?"

"What? Oh, yes of course, come in," she replied and swallowed back her tears. This war had already claimed many lives and would surely take countless more before it was over. There would be time to mourn properly once they had defeated the blight.

"Well look at you!" He cried as he entered. "Don't you clean up nicely?"

Flynn twirled around and curtsied ostentatiously. "I have my moments," she grinned. "Let me tie back my hair and we can be on our way. I'm sure there is much we need to do before sunset. I need to stretch out my beacon lighting arm." She rummaged in her pack until she found a leather fastener and reached up to pull her hair back into a ponytail. She let out a gasp as white-hot pain shot through her when she touched her forehead. "What in the name of the Maker," she mumbled as she gingerly prodded a large knot that had been hiding under her bangs.

"Are you alright, Flynn?" Alistair asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. It's just where I hit my head on the landing last evening."

He pushed aside her hair and carefully inspected the goose egg. "We should get you to a healer, just in case."

"Really, I'm fine," she protested.

"Nonsense! I know just the mage, possibly the only one in the entire camp who doesn't hate my guts."

She followed reluctantly as he led her out of the tent and to the mage's campgrounds. Templar guards surrounded the entire area. Alistair greeted a few by name before leading her to an older woman giving orders to some of her younger counterparts. Her short white hair was tied back in a low ponytail. She emanated a combination of grace and intelligence. The woman gave Alistair a kind smile as they approached and excused herself from her group.

"Alistair!" she cried happily, "I had not expected to see you again so soon! Did the salve I gave you work for your poison oak problem? No further...spreading...I hope?"

"Oh, yes, of course," he mumbled. A tinge of embarrassment colored his cheeks, "All clear. I was actually hoping you could help my friend."

The woman smiled at Flynn, "My name is Wynne, what is yours?" she asked warmly.

"My name is Flynn Cousland, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said with a small curtsey.

"She hit her head last night and I hoped you might be able heal her before the battle," Alistair interjected.

"Of course! Come here child and let me take a look," Wynne beckoned her closer and gently pushed her bangs back from her forehead "That's a nasty knot you have there," she chided. A soft green light began to glow from her hands as she ran her fingertips across Flynn's forehead. "There," she said finally, "Good as new." Flynn reached up to prod her brow to find the knot and pain completely gone.

"What did I tell you? Wynne is extraordinary," Alistair beamed at her.

The mage waved off his praise graciously. "You are too kind, Alistair. Now, forgive me, but I must return to my meeting. Please take care of yourselves this evening. May the Maker watch over you both," She excused herself and returned to her conference with the other mages.

"Well, we should probably get back to camp ourselves. There are only a few hours of daylight left and I'm sure Duncan could use some assistance before sunset," Alistair said. They walked together back to the Warden base to prepare for the battle to come.


	7. Chapter 7

The hours passed rapidly as Flynn and Alistair made their final preparations for the darkspawn. Word from the scouts about the size of the horde was passing through the camp like wildfire. The warden's had faced the darkspawn three times in battle, but tonight the bulk of the blight was set to descend on them. Flynn could feel the unease growing in the soldiers around her as she and Alistair sat together fletching arrows. The closer to sunset, the quieter the camp became. Flynn's heart began to race as the sun finally started to sink below the horizon.

She watched as the men gathered into columns and filed down countless stone steps to the large field below the fortress. They fell silent as the flames from thousands of darkspawn torches began to appear in the distance.

"We should probably get into position. Are you ready?" Alistair asked her quietly. Flynn nodded solemnly. He helped her to her feet and they set out towards the dark tower. They stood together overlooking the battlefield as the darkspawn horde finally approached. There seemed to be no end to them.

"Maker, there are so many," Flynn whispered. An ominous horn trumpeted through the silence. The darkspawn began smashing their weapons against their shields, snarling and bellowing strange cries. "If I die, I'm expecting you to avenge me. You better make it good too or I'll come back and haunt you," she joked lamely.

"Don't worry; I won't let anything happen to you." Alistair took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Come on, let's go. That signal fire isn't going to light itself, you know."

A horn sounded somewhere below them signaling the men to charge. The two forces slammed into one another and the battlefield dissolved into utter chaos. Flynn tried to keep her composure as she watched a particularly massive hurlock smash his way through a blockade and impale three soldiers. The screams of scraping metal and death were deafening as they raced to towards the tower.

"Alistair, look out!" Flynn cried as a boulder from a darkspawn catapult slammed into the bridge and knocked them to the ground. Her ears were ringing as she slowly pushed herself to her feet and tugged Alistair up. "Please be careful. Cailan seems to think that it will take the both of us to light that signal fire." They ducked low behind the wall and ran the remaining length of the bridge. "Besides, maker knows why, but I have grown somewhat attached to you."

She continued to sprint across the bridge with Alistair close at her heels. When they reached the other side Flynn grabbed her knees and tried to catch her breath. She looked up and saw that something was prowling in the shadows in the forest ahead of her. She peered into the darkness, trying to make out what it could be, when a flaming arrow shot out from the trees. She rolled to cover behind a wall and yanked Alistair down beside her. The arrow grazed the back of his armor and stuck solidly into the ground behind them.

"Thanks," he panted, "That was a close one. How did the darkspawn manage to sneak past our defenses?"

Flynn peered around the wall and saw a faint glint reflected off the archer's armor. She pulled back an arrow, carefully lined up her shot, and fired into the darkness. She heard a strangled cry and a thud as the archer fell from their treetop hiding spot. Flynn waited a few moments, listening and watching closely for any other sign of movement before jogging over to her fallen foe. The attacker was a man.

"Do you recognize him?" Flynn asked Alistair as she searched the archer for a sigil.

"No, I've never seen him before. Why in the Maker's name would someone want to attack us?!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Maybe he thought we were darkspawn?" Flynn suggested halfheartedly, "I mean, it is dark and tensions are running pretty high.."

"Or perhaps he was trying to stop us from reaching the beacon," Alistair countered darkly.

"Surely not...I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."

"I certainly hope you're right. Well, there is no time to dwell on the matter. We can send someone up to retrieve the body after the battle. We need to hurry and get to that beacon."

They raced up the stairs towards the tower. A wounded mage met them near the doors.

"Wait, you can't go in there! The tower has been overrun by darkspawn!" the mage cried.

"And here we were complaining that this was going to be too easy. That will teach us," Alistair mumbled.

"Oh come on you cry baby. I'll race you to the top. Whoever kills the most darkspawn wins!"

"Wins what?"

"I don't know a prize of some sort. We'll work out the logistics once I beat you to the top."

"Your confidence will be your undoing, madam. You're on!"

They began trying to shove past one another to be the first through the door. Flynn cackled when she pushed past him, victorious.

"Oh, come on!" He laughed. The mage stared at them, shaking his head in disbelief as he chased after her into the darkspawn-infested tower.

The narrow hallways of the tower worked to their advantage. Flynn fired off arrows into the darkspawn masses, easily picking them off as they bottle-necked in the doorway. Every time Alistair ran to attack a darkspawn, she would send an arrow into it, robbing him of his kill.

"No fair," Alistair cried, "That's blatant cheating!"

"Sixteen!" She laughed and fired arrow into the eye of a snarling genlock. "Wait, make that seventeen!"

Flynn swore loudly as a massive group of darkspawn erupted from a side hall and swarmed around them. An enormous hurlock had Alistair cornered. He stumbled backwards over a tripwire, inadvertently activating an explosive trap that blew the main bulk of the darkspawn force apart. "That counted!" He cried out triumphantly as bits of darkspawn gore rained down over them, "I bet that was at least twenty!"

"You nearly killed us both! And besides, there was no way that was more than twelve," Flynn huffed.

They continued their game up the spiral staircase towards the top of the tower. Flynn was astonished at how easily they had been able to handle the darkspawn. Maybe there was hope for defeating this blight after all. They were playfully arguing about the body count as they banged open the doors to the main landing.

"Oh maker," Flynn whispered. The color drained from her face.

"What? Finally realized that you stand no chance against my superior fighting skills?"

"No Alistair, look." Flynn pointed ahead shakily.

A massive ogre was hunched over a mound of bodies in the center of the room. It grabbed the corpse of a soldier and easily ripped it in half. It sniffed the air and jerked its enormous head towards them. The monster let out a deep roar, spewing spit and blood from its jagged gaping jaws and charged.

"Move!" Flynn cried.

They rolled in opposite directions as the creature slammed into the wall between them. It bounded to its feet with startling speed and hurtled towards her. She managed to dart just out of its reach as the beast swung a colossal fist at her. Alistair slashed at the artery behind the beast's knee, sending a spray of blood onto the floor. The ogre howled furiously and swiped at him with its massive maul. The hammer smashed into his breastplate with a sickening crunch and sent him flying into a nearby stone column; He collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap.

"No!" Flynn cried and sent an arrow into the ogre's calf to draw its attention.

She deftly dodged its furious swings, trying frantically to lure it towards the center of the room away from her unconscious companion. Alistair groaned as he began to come to. The ogre whirled around at the sound and prepared to charge. There was no way Alistair would be able to move in time. Desperate, Flynn pulled out her daggers and bounded onto the beast's back. She stabbed her way up its spine and plunged both blades into the ogre's neck. She yanked with all her might and opened the beast's throat. It fell to the ground howling and gurgling. She leapt down from its body and ran to Alistair who was feebly trying to sit up. "Alistair, thank the maker you're alright," Flynn was crying with relief, "For a moment I thought..."

"I'm fine, really," he said unconvincingly, rubbing his throbbing head.

"Wait a minute; you killed that thing by yourself?" He stuttered in disbelief. "I...I think you win."

"Hey now, you made a fabulous distraction, we'll call this one a draw. Come on, we have to light that signal fire," she said as she pulled him precariously to his feet. He leaned against her gratefully and together they hobbled towards the beacon in the center of the room. Flynn pulled a torch from its cradle on the wall; the flickering flames illuminated her face. Alistair reached out and took her hand into his.

"I think it's only right that we do it together. I mean, those were the king's specific instructions." They threw the torch into the pit and watched as it quickly engulfed the kindling. His hand still entwined with hers.


	8. Chapter 8

Teryn Logain stood at the precipice of a cliff overlooking the chaos of the battle below him. . He watched the tower silently. His troops milled about restlessly behind him, impatiently waiting for the beacon to signal their charge. Flames suddenly began to rise from the tower. The beacon had been lit. His brow furrowed furiously as he watched the blaze illuminate the night sky. The wardens had made it to the tower after all. It seemed his archer had been unsuccessful. There were to be no loose ends. This was an unfortunate turn of events. Very unfortunate.

"Teryn Logain?" A soft voice inquired anxiously. The captain of his battalion stood beside him. "That is the signal. Shouldn't we order the men to attack?"

"Sound..the retreat," he said quietly.

"What? But Teryn, those men will die if we quit the field!"

"Do not question me, woman!" He bellowed. "Sound the retreat."

A soft smile spread across his face as he turned back to the battle below. It was time for Fereldan to know true glory at his hands.


	9. Chapter 9

The battle outside the tower had dissolved into bedlam. Duncan looked up, relieved, as the signal fire finally lit up the tower. Surely Teryn Logain's forces would arrive any moment and change the tide of the battle. He fluidly took the head off a hurlock and looked anxiously into the distance for any sign of the reinforcements.

"Damnit, where is Logain? That's the signal!" Cailan cried from behind him. Ten minutes passed before a winded scout arrived.

"My lord, Teryn Logain and his forces have quit the battlefield!" the messenger managed to gasp before a darkspawn spear pierced his throat. The darkspawn had broken through the final line of defense to the fortress.

Duncan watched helplessly as an ogre burst through the final barrier, running down and crushing the few remaining soldiers to guarding the king. Cailan cried out in terror as the beast grabbed him around the middle, futilely trying to lash at the creature with his sword. It crushed him easily in one enormous hand and threw him to the side indifferently.

Duncan leapt into the mass of darkspawn, hacking and slashing feverishly trying desperately to reach the dying king. The beasts swarmed over him. Their claws reached for him, pulling and tearing at his flesh. He stumbled to his knees, helpless to stop a massive hurlock as it plunged its sword through his heart. He fell back to the ground gasping, the life slowly ebbing from his body. The taint in his blood sang as a dark shadow rose over him. A winged nightmare soared above the battlefield, shrieking to its children as they massacred the remaining warden forces.

"Maker help us all," he whispered. His unseeing eyes stared up at the starless night sky.


	10. Chapter 10

Flynn and Alistair surveyed the battle anxiously from the tower.

"Where are the reinforcements? Shouldn't they have arrived by now?" Flynn asked nervously. "I mean we lit the correct beacon, right?"

They watched in horror as the flood of darkspawn swarmed the fortress and slaughtered the remaining men in the tower courtyard.

"I...I don't think there are going to be any reinforcements Flynn. Come on, we have to go now before they retake the tower!"

Flynn sprinted back to the center of the room to grab her pack. She whirled around in surprise as the doors to the landing burst open and a torrent of darkspawn poured in. Flynn drew her bow, but was thrown off balance by a sudden excruciating pain. She staggered backwards, grasping the shaft of an arrow embedded deep in her chest. Alistair cried out in rage and slammed his sword into the skull of the darkspawn archer. He swung at them wildly, taking out dozens, as he tried to fight his way to Flynn. She stared down vacantly at the blood on her hands as she slumped against a wall and faded into darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

Flynn's eyes fluttered open and fought to adjust to the harsh sunlight streaming in through an open skylight. She shook her head, disoriented. A familiar pair of yellow eyes leered at her from across the room.

"Mor..Morrigan?" She stammered.

"Good. I was beginning to fear that you would never wake. This should put that fool at ease; He's been pacing circles into the floor for the last three days."

"Where am I?" She sat up, suddenly terrified, "Maker, where is Alistair?!"

"Settle down," Morrigan chided, a"He is quite alive and just as irritating as you last left him, I assure you. I'm sure he's outside _languishing_ as we speak."

"What happened?"

"I am afraid your battle was lost. The man who was to lead your reinforcements quit the field, taking his troops with him. Most of the soldiers are dead," She said indifferently.

"Why? Why would he do such a thing?"

"I know not. There have been a few stragglers, but I am afraid all of the grey wardens were killed or carried off by the darkspawn... Well, except for you and your foolish friend that is."

The enormity of what she claimed happened washed over Flynn. There had been thousands of soldiers at the fortress. All of those lives snuffed out in the span of a few hours. What kind of a Maker would allow this to happen to his children. "How? How did we survive?" she finally managed.

"Twas my mother who saved you. She turned into a giant bird and plucked you from that tower... or so she will have you believe," Morrigan chuckled. "She used her magic to heal your wounds and kept you both hidden from the darkspawn here in the wilds."

"Thank you Morrigan." Flynn said sincerely.

"I...Twas nothing," she replied, taken aback. "You should be thanking me for putting up with your wretched friend. He has been inconsolable since you were brought here."

Morrigan tossed her pack to her.

"There is stew on the fire. Eat and dress if you feel well enough. I will be outside." She stood and slipped silently out the door.

Flynn sat up slowly and tenderly prodded her chest where the arrow had impaled her. The area was sensitive, but she was astounded to find that it had healed completely with no trace of a scar. Morrigan's mother must be an extraordinarily powerful mage to have saved them and healed a wound that should have been mortal. Maybe she actually was the Flemeth of legend. She stood unsteadily, pulled on her leather armor, and walked tentatively out of the hut into the bright midday sun.

Alistair was seated on the ground with his back to her holding his face in his hands, oblivious to her presence. The joy and relief at seeing him alive and unharmed was almost too much for Flynn to handle. She walked to him and placed her hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Alistair..."

He whipped around, startled by the sound of her voice, and jumped to his feet. He stared at her in disbelief with puffy, red eyes.

"Aw, you are just as ugly a crier as I am," she smiled and brushed away a stray tear as it trailed down his cheek.

"Maker, is it really you?" He reached out tentatively and touched her face, "I thought for sure...Oh Flynn." He pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. They stayed like that for some time, too afraid to let go of one another. Finally, he trailed his fingers down her arms and took her hands. "Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Don't you ever do that to me again, or Maker help me I'll feed you to the darkspawn myself."

"Fine, if it will make you happy, I will try not to take any more arrows to the chest... I guess." She sighed.

"And I wasn't crying...I just got dust in my eyes...while fighting...things," he finished awkwardly.

"Oh really? Where are all these "things" you were fighting?"

"I...they...ran away in terror at my tremendous strength and battle prowess."

"Of course they did. How very, very, brave of you to face so many...things," she realized suddenly that they were still holding hands; she let go and they stepped back from one another sheepishly. They walked together to the shade of a nearby willow and sat against the rough bark of the tree trunk.

"Flynn, Teryn Logain abandoned those men to die. We are the only remaining grey wardens in Fereldan."

"I know," she said softly, "Morrigan told me everything."

"I just don't understand. Teryn Logain is supposed to be Fereldan's greatest hero. I mean for Maker's sake his daughter was married to King Cailan. It just doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense!" He slammed his fist against the tree trunk angrily, splitting his knuckles open. "I should have been there with Duncan and the others. How was a great man like Duncan killed and a fool like me spared?"

"Alistair, you had nothing to do with Duncan's death, and berating yourself will not bring him back. The only person who carries any blame is that coward Logain." She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped his injured hand tenderly. "You _are_ a great man. You saved my life. If you had been down there in that battle I wouldn't be here right now."

"Oh please Flynn, _you_ killed most of the darkspawn in the tower, and _you_ defeated that ogre while I lay on the floor unconscious. I was useless," he replied miserably, "You'd be better off without me."

He leaned his head against the trunk and closed his eyes. Sorrow was plain on his face; the sight was heart wrenching. She looked up at the delicate swaying branches of the willow tree they sat beneath, marveling that something could be so beautiful and peaceful while her world was falling into turmoil.

"When I first met you, you asked why I was recruited into the grey wardens," She began softly, "Contrary to what I told you, it was not because of my charm or good looks. Duncan did not come to my family's estate to recruit me; he came to recruit my best friend Roderick. While he was there to administer the test, my father's advisor Arl Howe attacked the undefended castle in a bid to gain my family's land and title. The guards, the servants...my mother, father, sister-in-law and nephew were slaughtered. In one terrible night, I lost everyone I had ever known and loved. All murdered over one man's greed and lust for power."

Flynn's voice caught in her throat. She gently thumbed the crest carved into her bow as she continued.

"Duncan rescued me and offered me a chance to be a grey warden because he needed a recruit, not because I was his choice. We left my home and I was shattered. I wished so desperately that he had just left me there to die with them. That was, until I met you."

She looked up at him with tears spilling down her cheeks, "Meeting you reminded me that the world is not all darkness; there is still light and kindness to be found even in the direst of times. You gave me _someone_ to fight for Alistair; you gave me _something_ to live for again." She took his hand.

"Flynn, I had no idea. I am so sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for Alistair. The man was a coward just like Teryn Logain. We can do nothing to bring them back. We can sit here and feel sorry for ourselves and wish things were different, or we can fight together to end this blight and make sure that their deaths were not in vain."

"My my, what a moving sentiment," Morrigan materialized from the shadows of the woods. "If only words could end the blight, we would have defeated the darkspawn twice over." She sauntered catlike towards them.

"What do you want, witch?" Alistair asked wearily.

"Tut, tut. That is hardly any way to address the woman who saved your life, _templar_. My mother wishes to speak with the two of you. Come, she is not a patient woman."

They followed Morrigan back to the hut where Flemeth was waiting with their packs and a sack of supplies. "It is time that you leave this place and fulfill your destinies. As the last remaining grey wardens you are the only ones who can defeat the arch demon and end this blight."

"Oh sure, sounds simple enough, "Alistair replied irritably," I suppose we will just waltz into the deep roads and kill the thing then. Come on Flynn, time to fulfill our destiny."

"Do not be a fool, boy. This is no time for your inane jokes. You must gather an army to destroy the blight and strike the arch demon when it is weak."

"Gather an army? I don't suppose you have one just lying about in that sack do you?"

"She means the treaties, Alistair," Flynn said exasperatedly and pulled the small chest from her pack.

"The girl at least has some sense. I am glad I did not save you in vain. After the first blight, each of the races of Fereldan pledged that they would assist the grey wardens if another blight ever arose. The peoples of this land have grown distant and mistrustful of one another. These treaties will be crucial in convincing them to join your cause. "

"Thank you for everything, Flemeth. I don't know how you saved us from that tower, but we are incredibly grateful."

Flemeth nodded dismissively and handed her the supplies. "I must ask one favor of you before you depart."

"Of course, anything."

"Take my daughter Morrigan with you."

"What?!" Morrigan and Alistair exclaimed together.

"She is a capable mage and I desire for her to learn more about the world than I can teach her in these wilds."

"Mother, surely you jest!" Morrigan's golden eyes flashed angrily.

"Enough girl, get your things and do as I say!" Flemeth silenced her with a fierce glare and Morrigan reluctantly went into the hut to gather her belongings.

"I expect you to return her unharmed. She is a stubborn thing, but she will be a useful tool in your efforts to stop this blight."

"We will keep her safe," Flynn assured her.

Morrigan stomped out of the hut, "Goodbye mother. Try not to starve to death while I am gone."

Her mother nodded curtly and Morrigan set off without them into the forest.

"You'd best catch up with her. She is likely the only one who can guide you through these wilds unscathed. Be safe wardens. The fate of all Fereldan lies in your... _capable_...hands."

Flynn and Alistair grabbed their packs and followed Morrigan into the dense shadows of the woods.


	12. Chapter 12

Morrigan's stormy mood did not improve as they traveled the treacherous terrain through the woods. She rebuffed all attempts at conversation, finally suggesting that perhaps Flynn and Alistair should keep their insufferable mouths shut, lest they draw the attention of the darkspawn. Thus, they traveled for several miles in an uncomfortable silence until nightfall. They stopped in a clearing deep in the heart of the forest to make camp. Morrigan roughly shouldered past Alistair and began to set up her own site much further from theirs.

"My, isn't she agreeable," he huffed and threw down his pack.

"Oh come on, she's not that bad. I'm sure under that brooding craggy crust is a soft...friendly...um..." She sighed and dropped her pack next to his.

They gathered kindling and started a small fire. A biting wind had begun to blow in from the north. Flynn went to her pack to retrieve her bedroll and wrapped herself in it tightly. She wished forlornly for the tent she lost in Ostagar. She scooted closer to the meager flames, shivering. Alistair noticed her discomfort and got up to gather more wood. He fed it to the fire and placed his own bedroll around her shoulders.

"Alistair, it is freezing! I can't take this," she protested.

He waved off her objections and sat down next to her. Flynn pulled a loaf of bread from her bag and rummaged around until she found a block of cheese she had been saving. She tossed it to Alistair with a smile.

"Ooh!" He cried gleefully.

"I thought that might cheer you up," she laughed.

Flynn looked over to Morrigan who was reading a leather bound tome with her back to them. "Should we invite her over to eat?"

"I'm not sure she eats people food," he whispered conspiratorially. "I bet she will wait until we fall asleep, and then turn into some kind of giant bat-spider and sneak into the woods to suck the blood of several cuddly forest creatures."

"I can hear you, you imbecile!" Morrigan called in an irritated voice.

"See! We are at least sixty feet away. She's a bat-spider if I've ever seen one!" He crossed his hand over his chest in a sign to the Maker, "I'm sleeping with a statuette of Andraste tonight."

"Don't listen to him, Morrigan, come eat with us."

She waved a hand over her shoulder dismissively and continued reading.

"Well I tried," Flynn sighed.

They ate together by the fire; the flames danced strange shadows across their faces in the dark starless night.

"Flemeth said that most of the survivors and refuges headed north towards the village of Lothering. I suppose we should head that way at sunrise, "Alistair mused with a mouth full of cheese. "It's not too much further from here and we can stock up on the supplies we lost during the attack."

"Sounds like a plan," Flynn said through chattering teeth. "Come on, we'd better get some sleep or we'll never make it to Lothering tomorrow."

She handed him back his bedroll and positioned hers closer to the fire. "You can lay yours near mine if you'd like..." She blushed and continued hastily, "You know, just in case bandits or darkspawn attack, so we can coordinate a defense faster."

"That sounds reasonable; I mean we don't want to be surprised." He laid his bedroll a few feet from hers.

"Now turn around, and so help me if I catch you peeking at me in my smallclothes," she chastised and began to remove her armor.

Alistair, ever the gentleman, respected her request and only eyed her sideways for a moment. He took in her lithe figure. Her long chestnut hair tumbled in loose curls down her back nearly down to her perfectly...shaped...he snapped his head forward, his ears burning shamefully. Flynn slipped into a warm pair of pants and slid into her sleeping bag.

"What is that goofy grin for? You looked didn't you?!"

"No! Maker's honor! Well ok, just for a second, but I didn't see anything, I swear!"

She threw a boot at him and pulled the bedroll up to her chin, laughing.

"Well fine, same goes for you. Take one look at my glorious exposed visage and the Maker will melt your eyes...or so the senior Templar in the chantry used to tell me."

Flynn sighed exasperatedly and covered her eyes with her hands.

"You can look now, you heathen," he said as he pulled a shirt over his broad muscled chest. He tugged his bedroll over himself and rolled to face her.

"Goodnight Flynn."

"Goodnight Alistair."


	13. Chapter 13

Flynn woke a few hours later with a start. The fire had gone out and an unnatural stillness hung in the air. An agonizing burning sensation spread through her chest until every nerve in her body felt like it was ablaze. "Alistair, something is wrong," she whispered.

Alistair sprang awake and tried to untangle himself from his bedroll, "Darkspawn! Quick wake Morrigan, they will be here any second!"

"I'm awake you fool! Stop shouting before you alert the entire blight to our presence," she hissed from nearby.

Flynn grabbed her bow and readied an arrow. She stared uneasily into the woods. Alistair stood at her back facing the other side of the clearing. They waited in the unnerving silence.

"How many?" she whispered.

"You tell me," he said, "That feeling that woke you was them. Try to feel it again. How many?"

Flynn shut her eyes and shuddered as the burning feeling began to pulse through her again. She attempted to focus on ignoring the pain. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she experienced the gift and curse of the Wardens for the first time. The darkspawn appeared in her mind like shadows. She could almost hear the sound of their ragged breathing and smell the dank odor of their sweat. Eight hearts beat in time with her own.

"Are you alright Flynn?" Alistair asked quietly.

"It's terrible..and remarkable," she whispered. "There are eight of them. They will be coming from your direction."

"That's right. I think it's a scouting party made up of mostly lesser beasts. We should be able to dispatch them and depart before the bulk of the horde appears."

"It is as if I am a part of them. Is it always like this?"

Alistair nodded darkly and Flynn repositioned herself next to him. Morrigan stood a ways away looking into the forest disinterestedly. The darkspawn burst from the woods without warning and charged towards them. Flynn easily took out three with her bow and Morrigan froze three more solid before they even reached the clearing. The remaining two converged on Alistair. Flynn swore when she realized there was no way to take a shot without danger of hitting him. She gasped as a genlock slashed into his unarmored forearm with its ax. He snarled wrathfully and shoved his sword through its skull. He smashed his shield into the face of the last attacker. The beast fell to the ground howling and Alistair slit its throat before it could alert others to their position.

They began a mad dash to pack up their supplies before more followed.

"Well I didn't need any more sleep anyway," Alistair yawned.

"You're bleeding," Flynn grabbed his forearm and inspected the shallow gash.

"It's nothing; I promise I don't even feel it. Come on we need to get moving."

"Oh stop trying to act tough and get over here so I can clean it. You won't be any use to me if your arm gets infected and falls off."

"Oh, so all I am is an arm to you? I knew you only liked me for my arm." He grimaced as she uncorked a bottle of alcohol Flemeth had packed and poured it over his cut. "Ow, that hurts worse than the actual cut!" He whined. Flynn wrapped the wound tightly with a bandage. "Won't you at least kiss it to make it better?"She rolled her eyes and kissed his bandaged arm. "It's amazing! It doesn't hurt at all now! Are you sure you're not a mage?" He gasped and Flynn shoved him away good-naturedly.

They quickly packed away the remains of their camp and set off into the early morning light towards the city of Lothering.


	14. Chapter 14

They reached the city walls a few hours later. A suspicious group of men in shoddy armor was guarding a crude blockade near the city gates. The leader of the group smiled greedily as they approached. "Well, well, travelers! Delightful! Welcome to Lothering fair ladies and gentleman. As you can see, my friends and I are here to collect the toll to cross into town. If you wouldn't mind emptying your purses into this coffer, we will gladly see you on your way." He jangled a half-filled tin under Flynn's nose expectantly.

"They don't look like refuges to me boss. Maybe we should let them through," one of the men said nervously from behind him.

"Nonsense," the leader laughed, "Everyone has to pay the toll! Now kindly hand over the silver or we'll take it from your corpses."

"You're kidding, right? Move aside before we report you to the guard," Alistair huffed angrily and began to push forward.

"Ah, ah, ah my friend," the man said venomously and flipped a concealed dagger from his sleeve. He thrust it out towards Flynn's throat. "If you want to get into town, you have to pay the toll. Whether it is in coin or blood is your decision."

Flynn looked down at the rusted dagger the man was brandishing and smiled slyly. Oh, this was going to be fun. With one fluid motion, she twisted the man's arm behind his back, plucked away the dagger and threw him to the ground. She dusted off her hands and turned back to her companions.

"Morrigan would you please show these men what we do with bandits?"

"My pleasure," she said darkly and raised her staff. An unseen force jerked the thug up from the ground and threw him violently into his band of men. They tumbled backwards to the dirt in a tangled heap. The leader stood up unsteadily and yanked another concealed dagger from his waistband.

"You'll pay for that, you bitch," he spat and stalked angrily towards Flynn. Before he could close the gap, he found Alistair's sword biting into his neck.

"I believe you owe the lady an apology, _ser_ ," he pushed the blade's point into the man's throat; A trickle of blood slid slowly down its steel edge.

"Of...Of course, I am terribly sorry ma'am. What I meant to say is that we'll just be gathering our things and be on our way," the man stammered.

"Alistair, how do you think they procured so many nice things? Surely you don't believe they stole them do you?"

"I think you're right, Flynn. Maybe they should turn around and leave town before they lose more than just their loot." He shoved the man back towards the group and watched as they fled towards the forest.

"I can't believe those cowards were shaking down desperate refuges," Flynn murmured. "Let's see if we can find a tavern. We can send the city guards to collect and distribute these supplies. Maybe we'll be able to find out what's going on here."

They entered the city through the gates. Hundreds of tents crowded the area. It appeared that the entire south had fled to Lothering to escape the blight. The stench of sickness and unwashed bodies was overpowering. They shoved through the masses towards the ramshackle tavern. A soldier shot out his arm and stopped Flynn roughly.

"There is no more room in Lothering for you refuges. You will need to move on immediately."

"We're not refugees," Flynn tried to explain. "We were at Ostagar."

"So were half the other Maker-Forsaken blighters here. Now move on!"

"Have any grey wardens passed through?" She knew that the question was pointless, but she had to ask.

"No, and Maker help them if they do. Those cowards betrayed the king and tried to flee the battle. Thousands of men died because of their treachery. Teryn Logain has put a bounty out on any grey wardens found; Dead or alive."

"What!?" Flynn and Alistair exclaimed indignantly. "It was Teryn Logain who quit the field, not the Wardens!"

"I wouldn't go around spouting that nonsense if you value your hide," the knight responded darkly. "Now be gone with you. I have no time to sit here and listen to your wild conspiracy theories."

He shoved them along forcefully.

"I can't believe it!" Alistair hissed.

"I can. Logain had to try to cover his betrayal somehow. What better way than to make anyone who could dispute his story a fugitive?" Flynn fumed. "There's the tavern. Let's see if we can't find out more."

They entered the dimly lit inn and grabbed a table near the back. Flynn threw down her gear and collapsed into a chair while Alistair went to the counter to speak with the innkeeper. Morrigan sat across from her, making a point to look as unapproachable as possible. Her unpleasant scowl did not discourage one exceptionally intoxicated drunk who spotted them from across the room. He rose from his bar stool and stumbled over towards them. He slopped ale down the front of his grubby shirt as he plopped on the bench next to Morrigan. "Well, well, well...what have we here? What are a couple beautiful lovelies like you doing in a place like this?" He slurred.

Morrigan pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly annoyed. "Away with you, fool. We have no time for your nonsense," Morrigan prodded him sharply with the end of her staff in an attempt to shoe him away. The drunk was undeterred. He threw back another gulp of ale and leaned in close to her ear.

"Come on, love; let's see what's under that skimpy little top of yours," he whispered crudely.

The man reached for the string holding Morrigan's top together. She flicked her wrist, encasing the offending hand in ice and swung her staff into his face.

"She's a mage!" The man cried through a mouthful of broken teeth and the bar erupted into chaos.

An angry group of patrons began to stampede towards them. Flynn drew an arrow and pointed it at the drunken man's head. "Enough!" she shouted. She was surprised to find Alistair at her side with his sword and shield drawn.

"I leave you two alone for five minutes and you incite a riot?" He muttered to her with an air of amusement.

A colossal man stepped forward and pointed at the sigil on Alistair's shield, "That's the sign of the grey wardens! Teryn Logain has offered five hundred gold pieces to any man who brings him the head of a warden!"

He smashed a bottle against the table and stalked towards them brandishing the jagged glass.

"Wait!" a clear Orlesian voice cried from across the room. The crowd fell silent and parted to reveal a beautiful woman dressed in the robes of a chantry sister. Her fiery red hair was cropped to her chin, perfectly framing her angelic face. "Gentlemen, surely there has been enough fighting for one lifetime. Can we not find it in our hearts to leave these travelers in peace?" She asked soothingly.

All eyes followed as her heels clicked lightly across the stone pavers. Flynn saw a quick glint of metal as the woman slid a hand into her robe pocket and subtlety concealed a wicked looking dagger up her sleeve. No one other than Alistair seemed to notice her deft sleight of hand. They exchanged a meaningful look and tightened their grip on their weapons as she approached the man with the broken bottle. The chantry sister was obviously more than she appeared; whether that was advantageous for them remained to be seen.

"Ser, surely there is a way to solve this conflict without bloodshed. Come, let us go to the chantry and ask the Maker to forgive you for what I am sure is an uncharacteristic act of violence." She placed a hand gently on his arm and gave him a small smile. The man began to lower his weapon, as if hypnotized by the calming power of her voice.

"Don't let that pretty face distract you, Saul! That's five hundred silver the Teryn's offering!" an angry patron shouted from the crowd. The man seemed to regain his resolve and shook away her hand with a scowl. He turned back to face the wardens and lumbered towards them.

"Why must we always have to do things the hard way," the woman sighed and withdrew the dagger from her gown. With a flash, it flew across the bar and pierced the man's wrist. He howled furiously and the bar erupted into a brawl.

"Try not to kill anyone unless you have to; Most of these men are just desperate refuges!" Flynn shouted to her companions. A poorly aimed arrow hurtled past her and thudded into the wall; the attackers, it seemed, were not so considerate. Bottles, glasses, chairs, and anything else not bolted to the ground began to fly through the air. Flynn slipped easily through the confusion, disarming or knocking unconscious the inebriated patrons. A pile of groaning, disoriented men began to scramble over one another towards the exit. It only took the remaining attackers a few minutes to realize that they were vastly out skilled. They soon began to flee the tavern in limping, bleeding droves. Alistair helped a few stragglers out with a well-placed boot to the bottom.

Flynn watched them retreat out the door and down the dirt path out of town. The chantry sister stood infront of the tavern fire a few paces away from her. The blazing coals illuminated her fiery tresses. The woman still clutched the wicked looking dagger in her hand. She suddenly bared her teeth wrathfully and let the blade fly. Flynn yelped as the dagger flew past her and hit its mark with a wet squelch. She whirled around as the body of the bar-brawl instigator fell to her feet, still clutching the broken bottle. He had apparently been lying in wait behind the bar-counter for an opportune moment to strike. The sister's dagger now lodged deep in his chest. The woman had saved her life.

They watched as she walked forward and wrenched the weapon from his corpse, "I am Leliana," she said cheerfully. She wiped the blood from her dagger with the man's shirt.

"I..I..umm.." Flynn stuttered.

"I believe what she means to say is thank you," Alistair finished.

"My pleasure," the sister beamed and nimbly twirled the dagger between her fingers.

"Where does a sister learn to handle a blade like that?" Flynn finally asked in disbelief.

"Oh, I wasn't born in the chantry. Many of us had more... _colorful..._ lives before we joined," She said evasively.

"Well, regardless, thank you. My name is Flynn. This is my fellow Warden Alistair and our friend Morrigan," Flynn gestured to each of her companions.

" _Friends_ is a generous way of putting it," Morrigan muttered and knelt to loot the dead man's purse.

A strange troubled look replaced Leliana's smile. "So you are Grey Wardens then?"

"Yes, but please," Flynn pled, "You must understand that those men were wrong to attack us. The Wardens were not to blame for the battle at Ostagar. We saw Teryn Logain quit the field ourselves. He is trying to use the wardens as a scapegoat to distract from his treason." Flynn knew that accusing Fereldan's greatest hero of betrayal must sound ridiculous. She prayed that they were not about to lose the only ally they had gained on this already desperate quest.

"So you are the Wardens from my vision then," Leliana said softly. She fell to her knees and crossed her chest in a sign to Andraste. A broad smile suddenly lit up her face and she clapped her hands excitedly. "I just knew you would come!"

"Wait...Pardon?" Alistair asked incredulously.

"The Maker wants me to go with you!" She rose to her feet and took Flynn's hands. "He granted me a vision to tell me that you would be coming and that I was to help you."

"More crazy? I thought we were full up..."Alistair mumbled. Flynn elbowed him sharply in the stomach.

"I...umm..." Flynn began, thinking frantically of a polite way to rid herself of the obviously mad woman.

"I know that sounds absolutely insane, but it is true! Please allow me to accompany you and lend you my skills. You will not regret it, I assure you," she begged.

"I...umm..." Flynn mumbled, still grasping desperately to find any valid reason for turning away a skilled blade.

"It is settled then!" Leliana cried happily. "I will go the chantry at once and collect my things! We should meet near the north exit and leave this place immediately before the men who attacked you alert others." The woman turned on her heels and practically floated out of the tavern.

"Wonderful," Alistair grumbled, "What other delights will this day hold?"

They left the tavern and began to make their way towards the town center.

"Morrigan, why don't you go ahead and meet Leiliana near the north gates while Alistair and I barter with that merchant...Morrigan?"

Flynn turned around to find Morrigan stopped near the chantry. She stood in front of a cage holding an enormous man with stark white hair. They jogged back to her. Flynn found herself captivated by the giant chained before her. The sheer size of the man was astonishing. He was at least a full foot taller than any man Flynn had ever seen. Thick bands of muscle pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

"What a shame to cage such power. You are Qunari are you not?" Morrigan inquired, showing an uncharacteristic inquisitiveness.

"I will not amuse you any more than the other humans. Leave me in peace," he replied stoically.

"Tell me, what are you doing in this cage?" She continued, nonplussed.

"I was placed here by the chantry. I am Sten of the Qunari vanguard." His enormous hands gripped the bars of the cage as he stared icily into Flynn's eyes.

"We should release him and bring him with us. This is a proud and powerful creature trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If you cannot see a use for him I suggest we release him for mercies sake," Morrigan said and turned to Flynn.

"Oh sure, let's release the caged criminal giant. Wonderful idea. Why don't we also go throw rocks at hornets' nests and tease a few bears while we're at it?" Alistair quipped shortly.

"Are you sure Morrigan? I mean we don't even know why the chantry put him here," Flynn said hesitantly.

"I have been convicted of murder. Eight humans, in addition to the children," he said expressionlessly.

"Why?" She asked, taken aback by his blunt admission.

"It does not matter now. My life is forfeit. Leave me or take me with you, I care not."

He looked at her steadily with his cold, hard gaze. Flynn bit her lip as she weighed her choices. After a few moments, she pulled a lock pick from her pack and went to work at freeing him. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea Morrigan, but if you truly think he can assist us then I will trust your judgment."'

"You're actually going along with this nonsense?" Alistair shook his head in confusion, "He freely admits to murdering innocent people, and you want to just bring him with us?"

"We have killed men too, Alistair. We will need all the help we can get in the days to come. Besides, this is hardly the time to be looking a gift horse in the mouth," She said as the lock finally clicked open. "Morrigan, take him with you to the north exit and wait for us while we get some supplies."

Morrigan nodded dismissively and walked with Sten towards the gates.

"And so our merry band of misfits gains another outcast. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Not in the slightest," she laughed and they set off towards the merchant wagon.

After several minutes of bartering, they finally procured the supplies they were lacking and five ramshackle tents.

"I've never seen such price gouging; are you sure that shop keeper wasn't a darkspawn in disguise?" Flynn grumbled as she packed away her significantly lighter coin purse. They left together out of the north gate where Sten and Morrigan were waiting. Leliana jogged towards them from the chantry. She had changed from her chantry robes into light plate mail and waved cheerfully as she approached.

"Please tell me we are not seriously considering bringing this sanctimonious ball of frivolity with us," Morrigan mumbled angrily.

Flynn ignored her and stared down at the map she had purchased from the merchant. They now stood at the main crossroad outside the village.

"Well, now what?" Alistair asked Flynn.

"Wait, why do I have to decide? You are the senior grey warden. What do you think we should do?"

"Wonderful. You mean to tell me that you two are the only hope at stopping this blight, and you have not even considered how you are going to go about doing it? Have you even looked at the treaties my mother gave you?" Morrigan sighed.

"Of course we've...looked...at them." Alistair shifted uncomfortably. They had not even opened the chest yet. Flynn pulled the treaties from her pack and unfolded each one.

"Let's see, there are three treaties between the Wardens and the Dwarves, the Dalish elves and the circle of Magi. Where should we begin?" Flynn looked to each of them, "Come on, any help at all?"

"Fine," Alistair relented, "Why don't we go to Redcliff Village first before invoking the treaties? Arl Eamon is a good man; he raised me when I was a child before I was sent to the chantry. He will surely join his forces to our cause. Plus, Redcliff is only a stone's throw away to the Circle of Magi."

"There we go. Now we have a plan. We can discuss the logistics once we're on the road," Flynn shouldered her pack, "Now come on; let's get out of here before another angry mob shows up."


	15. Chapter 15

They set out together on the road towards Redcliff. Flynn was still unsure of the two new companions they had collected. Considering that Sten was a convicted murderer and Leliana was likely one bad vision away from slitting their throats in their sleep, she was justifiably cautious.

She walked at Alistair's side with Leliana close behind, chattering incessantly. She was pleasant enough, but Flynn wished that she would leave her alone to speak with Alistair. A headache began to brew behind her eyes as Leliana yammered on about her love of shoes and hats..and sweets..and knives...and hair.

"So then I bought another pair of shoes with the most adorable buttons! There were buttons on the front, the back AND the sides! The entire shoe was covered with precious buttons!"

Flynn rubbed her temples, trying her very best not to snap at the cheerful woman. "Leliana, do you think you could go make sure that Sten and Morrigan are doing alright? Besides, I know for a fact that there is nothing Morrigan likes better than talking about shoes."

"Of course!" She exclaimed brightly, "Oh, remind me later, I have to tell you about the most darling hat I found when I was last in Denerim!" She giggled and skipped delightedly back to Morrigan. Flynn could almost feel the daggers she was staring into the back of her head.

"I take it you do not fancy shoes and pretty dresses?" Alistair laughed

"I would rather be slowly eaten by an ogre than talk about taffeta," she grumbled.

"But whoever will I share my love of fine silk and stitching with?" he teased.

"When I was growing up my mother always forced me to attend court with her to meet with the other ladies and their daughters. All they ever wanted to discuss was fashion and suitors. I would usually sneak away when my mother was distracted and run off to the training yard with my friend Roderick to shoot bows and fight. My mother would be furious when I finally returned covered in mud and scratches."

"You've mentioned your friend Roderick before... were you two close?" Alistair asked nonchalantly.

"Inseparable. He was like a brother to me. He stayed behind to buy my family time to escape during the attack. I begged him to come with me but..." she trailed off sadly.

"Did you...care for him?"

"You mean romantically?" Flynn stammered.

"I'm sorry. That is absolutely none of my business. It was ridiculous and insensitive for me to even ask."

Flynn looked into the distance thoughtfully, "Honestly, I am not sure. I had never given it much thought until that night. I had never really been interested in that kind of thing."

"Had never?" he pressed gently.

Flynn met his eyes, blushing, "I..."

Leilana suddenly bounded obliviously between them, "Morrigan says that she will not stand my insufferable ramblings any longer. She really is quite testy, isn't she? I thought we would pick up where we left off with the hat I was telling you about."

The moment was gone. Flynn could strangle her.

"Why don't we take a break? I had better see about finding somewhere we can set up camp. I'll leave you two to chat," Alistair gave Flynn an evil grin and set off through the forest to find a clearing.

"You're such a dear, Alistair! Now where was I?" Leliana said, clapping her hands together merrily.

So this was hell.


	16. Chapter 16

Alistair returned a few minutes later to let them know he had found a spot that could accommodate their five tents. They followed him through the heavily wooded forest to a small clearing next to a swollen stream.

Flynn began to set up her campsite in a spot by the water. Alistair tried to set his bag near her but Leliana threw her pack down between them. Alistair shrugged apologetically and moved further downstream to set up his campsite. Leiliana hummed softly to herself as she assembled her tent. Wasn't it enough to be burdened with the sole responsibility of defeating the blight? Why had the Maker sent this jovial annoyance to plague her?

Flynn sighed as she unfolded her own tent and took inventory of the countless rips and tears in the canvas. Well, she supposed it was better than nothing. She pushed open the flap and stepped in to remove her armor. She pulled on a light tunic and flopped down onto her bedroll. The inside of the tent was sweltering and Leiliana's nearby humming was beginning to grate on her nerves. She threw open the tent flap and looked around the camp for Alistair, but he was nowhere to be found.

Leiliana poked her head out of her tent. "Oh, Alistair said was going to find some supper. He said he'd try to be back before sundown."

"Ah, thank you."

Flynn could not help but feel a little hurt that he hadn't asked her to accompany him. She inwardly cursed at herself for acting like one of the lovesick dimwits she had always mocked. Wait..lovesick? She shook away the thought as the headache that had been brewing all day finally boiled over. She decided to take a walk to try to clear her mind.

The calm of the forest was a welcome refuge. She followed the stream until she reached a large pool of water shaded by a number of inconceivably high redwood trees. Flynn sat on the bank, yanked off her boots and clothes, and waded out into the frigid water. She floated on her back and took in the vast stillness of the forest. In these few moments of peace, it was hard to conceive that Fereldan was still at war.

An unexpected splash suddenly sent waves flooding over her. She sputtered to the surface of the pond and spat out a mouthful of river water. She braced herself for an angry bear or some unknown form of water-dwelling darkspawn. Alistair grinned at her guiltily from the shallows.

She swam towards him and splashed him in the face good-naturedly. "You scared me!"

"Um Flynn, are you in your smallclothes?" He gaped at her in shock.

"I..um..why yes I am," she hastily back-paddled to the murky depths of the pond. "At least throw me my pants, you cad."

He climbed out of the water. His undershirt clung to the taut muscles of his chest. He tossed her the pants and then pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to her as well.

"Here," he said, "No reason to get all your things wet."

He turned around as she struggled into the clothes. Flynn's headache _miraculously_ seemed to fade away as her eyes traced the sinewy muscles of his back. "You can look now."

"I'm so sorry Flynn. I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. I didn't stop to think that you might want to be alone."

"Oh come off it. I never mind your company."

"Good, because I was hoping you would be here. I was going to invite you to come with me earlier, but Leiliana asked where I was headed so I made a break for it before she could follow." He jumped back into the pond and swam towards her.

"And here I was thinking you were avoiding _me_ ," she flashed him a mischievous smile and dove under the murky surface. Alistair waited several moments for her to come back up. He started to worry after nearly a minute had passed.

"Flynn? Flynn!" He floundered about in the water trying to find her. Something latched around his ankle and yanked him under. He came up gasping to find her laughing at him from the shallows.

"Oh, you think that was funny do you? I'll show you funny," he grinned and swam after her.

She leapt onto the muddy bank and tried to escape back into the underbrush. He chased her around the pond until she slipped in the muck and fell spread eagle onto the muddy bank. Alistair wiped tears of laughter from his face as he reached down to help her up. She grinned and yanked him down into the mud next to her.

"I think I ruined your shirt," she chuckled.

"You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway."

"Are you sure? Not that I'm complaining that is...I actually would encourage that you forgo shirts from now on," she smirked at him impishly and stretched out on the bank.

Alistair leaned back beside her and they stared up at the clouds drifting lazily overhead. His hand casually brushed against hers and Flynn felt her heart flutter. She had the strangest urge to reach out and intertwine her fingers with his. Flynn closed her eyes and let the warm sun soak into her skin.

"I wish we could just stay here," Alistair said quietly. He propped himself up on his elbow and reached out absentmindedly to pluck a leaf from her hair.

Flynn looked up at him and smiled. "Well, I like a muddy riverbank as much as the next girl, but..."

"I don't mean right here...just here... away from the death. Away from the darkspawn. This task we have inherited is just so overwhelming to think about sometimes."

"I know exactly what you mean," Flynn sighed.

"I suppose there is one good thing about this blight though," he said thoughtfully.

"And what is that?" Flynn asked.

"If it hadn't happened, I would never have met you..and I would never have gotten to do this," he suddenly jumped to his feet, picked her up over his shoulder and dumped her back into the pond.

She reappeared at the surface and threw a clump of pond scum at his chest; it hit its target with a wet plop. She grinned at him crookedly and dove back under the water. Alistair admired her refined strokes as she swam back towards the center of the pool. He leapt back into the water and swam towards her until their bodies were nearly touching. She turned to face him.

"Flynn, there is something I've been meaning to tell you."

Her heart began to race as she looked up into his light amber eyes.

"Room for one more?" A cheerful voice inquired from the outskirts of the forest. Leiliana bounded out from the trees and dove into the pond with a soft splash.

"You have got to be kidding me," Flynn mumbled as Leilana's red hair bobbed up to the surface.

"Oh, we were just about to head back to camp. It's all yours," Alistair said with forced joviality.

Flynn climbed out of the pond, rung out her hair and tugged on her boots. She waited for Alistair to gather his pack and followed him down the path to the campsite.

They had made it halfway back when Flynn reached out her arm and stopped him. She knelt down and carefully brushed away some strategically placed greenery concealing a snare trap.

"How strange. Someone must be using this part of the woods as a hunting ground."

"Good eye," Alistair muttered.

"What can I say; I'm pretty adept at woodsmanship."

"Is that even a word?"

"Well if not, it is now," she grinned. "I quite literally wrote the book on traps."

"Oh really?"

" _It's a Trap!_ by Flynn Cousland. I'm kind of a big deal in the trap detecting circles."

"Oh now I know you're lying," he laughed and shook his head. He began to step around the device.

"Alistair, Wait!" She cried and tried to push him aside but his foot caught the trigger to a snare. The rope snapped tight around their ankles and their foreheads crashed together as they were wiped into the air. Alistair cursed loudly as they dangled together a few feet above the ground.

"I was going to say that there is usually a secondary trigger...But it's a little late now," she snickered.

"Well...I suppose we'll just hang here until Leiliana heads our direction."

"No need," she said. Alistair craned around to see her reach up into her boot to pull out a small concealed blade.

"Well, perhaps you are adept in..woodsmanship," he laughed. She began to saw at the rope binding their legs.

"Brace yourself. This is probably going to hurt," she sighed and severed the final strands of the rope; the cord gave and they crashed to the ground in a tangled heap.

"Well, that was fun," he groaned, rubbing his sore backside. "I think I broke..." He snapped his head around sharply and yanked Flynn to her feet.

"Alistair? What's," she began but he clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her behind a tree. He pressed his body against hers, flattening her against the rough bark of the tree trunk. An unfamiliar voice called out to someone from a little further up the path.

"This way! I heard someone shouting up ahead!" someone called excitedly.

Alistair pressed his body protectively over hers as the voices drew closer. Flynn could feel his heart pounding wildly against her own.

"They set off one of the snares!" They can't be far," the stranger whispered. "The villagers from Lothering said they were traveling with a Qunari and two women...Remember, the Teryn wants the wardens alive, but we'll have to kill the others."

"I say we take out the giant and then have a little fun with the girls. Call it a bonus," his companion snickered.

Flynn felt Alistair tense furiously against her. He peered out from behind the tree as the voices faded further up the path.

"There are only two of them, but I doubt we can take them without weapons or armor. We should sneak back to the camp and double back on them with the others," he whispered.

Flynn nodded in agreement and they crept quietly from their hiding spot. A terrified shriek stopped them dead in their tracks.

"Maker, we forgot about Leiliana!" Flynn hissed. "There's no time to go back! We have to help her!"

They sprinted back down the path towards the pond. Flynn slowed as they approached the clearing. She ducked low into the underbrush and crept soundlessly towards the outskirts of the pond. The men drug Leiliana from the water by the hair. One of them clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Youch! Watch yourself, this one's a biter!" he cackled and threw her to the ground. He reared back and kicked her in the stomach while the other pinned her to the ground with his knees. Leiliana thrashed wildly against him.

"Easy love," he cooed, "Be nice and perhaps we'll be gentle with you."

Flynn had to yank Alistair back to the ground to prevent him from leaping from cover.

"Wait," she hissed and pointed to the swords dangling from the men's belts. "We'll get her killed if we rush in without a plan."

Alistair nodded begrudgingly. Flynn pulled out the small blade she concealed in her boot and slid it into the back of her waistband. She pointed to the larger man who had Leiliana pinned to the ground.

"No matter what happens, do not move until he is far enough away from her," She whispered.

Alistair nodded brusquely. Flynn took his face into her hands and made him meet her eye. "Alistair, promise me. Do. Not. Move."

"Fine," he said tersely.

He watched as she retreated back down the path out of sight.

"Leiliana! She called from the other side of the clearing. "Are you out here? Supper is ready!"

She walked heedlessly into the clearing, allowing the men to spot her. She stumbled backwards, feigning a look of terror. The man not holding Leiliana pounced on her and grabbed her by the wrists. Flynn tried half-heartedly to pull away and began to whimper meekly.

The jerked Flynn's face towards his own and slid his eyes over her from top to bottom appraisingly, "Brown hair, green eyes and freckles? Why I do believe we've found one of the wardens!" He cackled. "Why don't you join the party, love?" He pinned her arms behind her back and drug her over to his companion.

"Please, please don't hurt us!" Flynn sobbed.

"Why look at her shivering!" The big man laughed. "You mean to tell me that this wisp of a thing took on all those villagers?"

He stood and gave Leiliana another kick to the stomach. "Now, I'm going to have a chat with your friend there. You're not going to move, are you sweetheart?"

Leilana whimpered weakly and remained still.

The man cracked his knuckles as he strolled over to her. That's it, Flynn thought, just a little closer... He pinched her chin in his hand and pulled her closer to his face. His foul breath made her stomach turn.

"Teryn Logain said he wanted you and your other Warden friend alive, but I believe one Warden should suffice," he muttered. "Terrible things can happen in these woods. I'm sure the Teryn will understand."

The man began to unbuckle his breaches. Flynn took the opportunity to yank away from the smaller man's slack grip and mule kicked him backwards. Alistair leapt from the bushes and tackled him. He squealed shrilly as Alistair's fists pummeled his face.

Before the larger brigand could react to the ambush, Flynn whipped the dagger out of her waistband and shoved it into his throat. He stumbled away from her, gagging and clawing at it in surprise. He fell to his knees and looked up at her pleadingly. Flynn wrenched the dagger from his neck and he collapsed to the ground.

"As you said, terrible things can happen in these woods," She snarled. Flynn rushed over to Leiliana who was still huddled on the ground clasping her side. "Did he hurt you?" she asked and knelt down next to her.

"I'm fine," she winced. "One of my ribs may be cracked, but I think I would be much worse off if you hadn't come along. Thank you," she cried softly.

Alistair finally rolled off the smaller man, gasping raggedly. His face and bare chest were covered in a fine mist of blood. "Is she alright?" He called.

"I think so," Flynn returned and helped pull Leiliana to her feet.

The smaller man moaned miserably and Alistair kicked him as hard as he could in the ribs. "What do we do with this filth?" He asked Flynn as she and Leilana hobbled over.

"I think we send Teryn Logain back his messenger," she said and pulled the dagger from her waistband. "But perhaps without a few of his less essential pieces."

"No, please!" The man on the ground wailed.

"Just let him go," Leiliana said quietly. "Let him tell the Teryn that there will be retribution for his crimes."

The man sniveled pitifully, "Thank you, miss. Thank you for your sweet mercy."

"Be quiet, you repulsive pig!" she snapped. "I just don't want to soil my hands with your filthy blood. Let the Maker be your judge." She spat in his face and limped away down the path towards camp.

"Go, back to you master, dog," Alistair wrenched the man up by his arm and kicked him forward. "And know that if we meet again, there will be no mercy."

The man whimpered fearfully and hobbled away as fast as he could into the forest.

"Should we worry about others?" Flynn asked quietly.

"I don't think so. The nearest town is Lothering and he is injured. We should be long gone from here by morning."

He knelt down next to the water and rinsed off the man's blood. He was strangely quiet and subdued as they walked back towards camp together.

"Are you alright Alistair?" She asked finally.

He stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face her. "Watching those men...grabbing you and Leiliana..and talking about..I..." His voice caught in his throat. "I know you knew what you were doing, but even to think that something like that could happen to you. There was no telling what those men were capable of." He reached out and cupped her face in his hand. His thumb trailed lightly over her cheekbone. "You are the only friend I have left in this Maker-forsaken world. I could never live with myself if anything happened to you, Flynn. We are in this mess together. Please, just promise me that you won't go running off into trouble again without me."

She laid her hand against his and looked up at him. "I promise."


	17. Chapter 17

They returned to camp to find Morrigan wrapping a long bandage tightly around Leiliana's ribcage. "What?" she asked irritably at Alistair's approving smile. "You think me so heartless that I would let her suffer? I have done what I could for this simpering moron so that she will be of some use to us on the road. "

"Whatever you say, Morrigan," Flynn laughed.

"There," she said brusquely and pushed Leiliana back to her feet. "I know only basic healing spells, as it is a useless art for people who are too foolish to keep themselves out of harms way, but that should suffice."

"Thank you Morrigan. It feels much better now."

"You're welcome," she grumbled under her breath and stormed off into the woods.

"She's much kinder than she lets on, you know," Leilianna said quietly. "I think I will rest for awhile so that I can take first watch. We do not want to be taken by surprise again." She pushed open the tent flap and retreated inside.

Flynn and Alistair searched the clearing for kindling and built a small fire as the light began to fade. Morrigan emerged from the forest a short time later with three rabbits. She tossed them into Alistair's lap and looked at him expectantly.

"Well, don't just sit there looking like a dimwitted fool. We can't eat them raw," she huffed.

She muttered impatiently as Alistair and Flynn skinned the carcasses and spurred them onto a makeshift spit. As soon as the meat finished cooking, Morrigan split off two haunches with her dagger. She strode over to Leilana's tent and cleared her throat loudly. Leiliana tentatively opened the flap and Morrigan handed her the second haunch. "Here, eat," she said and then disappeared back to the campsite she had set up downstream. Leiliana watched her retreat down the path and left her tent to join them by the fire.

"I wonder what's gotten into her," Alistair pondered. He cut each of them off a quarter and sat down next to Flynn.

"You've got me," Flynn said and tossed the smoking rabbit from hand to hand, waiting for it to cool down enough to eat.

Sten emerged from the woods soon after Morrigan left. He looked around at them sullenly and grabbed the entire third rabbit from the flames. He bit into the still smoldering meat, bones and all, and stomped off back into the shadows.

The day's events seemed to have taken a toll on them all. Even Leiliana was unusually quiet. They sat in silence, listening to the shrill chirping of crickets and the fat crackling in the flames.

"Well, I think I'll leave you girls to it," Alistair yawned. He stretched sleepily and, practically fell into his tent. Flynn watched his silhouette as he settled in and smiled to herself.

"You care for him a great deal," Leliana mused quietly.

"What? Why would you..I..What?" Flynn sputtered, caught off guard.

"It's obvious!" She laughed. "I could tell the first moment I saw you with him."

"I do not!" Flynn protested weakly.

"Oh, well good! Then you won't mind if I tell him that _I_ fancy him then," she said casually.

"You're bluffing!" Flynn hissed.

Leliana laughed merrily, "See, you do care for him!"

"...Fine...I do. You evil red-headed harpy," Flynn grumbled.

"You should tell him. It's obvious he cares for you too."

"There's no way someone like Alistair would fancy someone like me. I mean, come on, he is so incredibly kind...and handsome. And I'm just...strange and awkward," Flynn sighed sadly.

"Nonsense! You are perfect for one another. I believe that the Maker has his hand in all of our lives. Fate obviously brought you together because you were meant for one another."

"That's a nice sentiment, but I don't know the first thing about this kind of... thing. I wouldn't have any idea what to say."

"You could start by telling him how you feel."

"So I'm supposed to do what exactly? Profess my love in the form of a sonnet? Oh, perhaps I'll steal away to his balcony in the middle of the night, throw rocks at his window and sing him a ballad! Drat, where is a bard when you really need one?" she mused.

"You should listen to your heart instead of hiding behind your humor," Leliana said exasperatedly.

"Listen to my heart? Come on, that's a bit cheesy don't you think?"

"Did someone say something about cheese?" Alistair inquired from behind her. Flynn whirled around in surprise.

"Exactly how long have you been standing there," she squeaked.

"Not long at all. I got up to refill my water-skin and heard someone mention cheese. What were you two gossiping about?"

"Oh, funny you should ask, Alistair. Why Flynn here was just telling me.." Leliana began with a wicked grin on her face.

"Nothing! I was telling her nothing at all. Boy it is late isn't it?" Flynn stretched and yawned exaggeratedly. "We better get to bed. Long way to go to Redcliff tomorrow."

She yanked Leilana up and pushed her towards her tent. Alistair stared after them, bewildered.

"Alright, well goodnight Flynn."

"Night!" She said quickly and fled into her tent.

She threw herself down on her bedroll and banged her head against the ground in frustration. She rolled onto her back and peeked out the flap of her tent. Alistair was sitting by the fire, idly playing with the string of a small black bag and staring into the flames. Flynn rolled onto her side, cursed her cowardice and tried to fall asleep.

She awoke to find the forest consumed by a raging inferno. The heavy smoke stung Flynn's eyes. She staggered to her knees coughing, trying desperately to find air. She clawed her way out of her tent on her stomach as the flames climbed the trees that surrounded her. She tried to call out to her companions, but the smoke suffocated all sound. She began to fight her way to a clearing she saw in the distance. She lurched to her feet and leaned heavily against an outcrop of rocks.

"Alistair!" She cried.

A piercing shriek answered from the rock-face above. She looked up to find an enormous dragon looming over her. Its jaws unhinged, revealing rows of dagger-like teeth. The beast unfurled its leathery wings and dove towards her.

She awoke to the sound of her own screams.

"Flynn! Wake up!" Someone was shaking her roughly. She forced her eyes to open and found Alistair leaning over her anxiously. She vaguely saw Leliana's outline standing beside him. "Leliana, will you please bring some water," Alistair asked haggardly. "I think she's finally coming to."

"Of course," She disappeared into her tent and returned with the water-skin.

Why was no one running? Didn't they realize that they were in terrible danger? "Alistair, we have to go!" She finally managed. "The arch demon is coming!" she cried and tried to stand weakly.

Alistair pulled her back down gently and took her face in his hands. "Flynn, look at me. It was a dream."

"But... I was alone and stumbling through the woods."

"You are not alone; I'm here," he said and brushed her hair from her tear streaked face.

"Maker, it felt so real."

"I promise you, it was only a dream. All grey wardens experience them when they first join because of the taint. You joined the Wardens in the midst of a blight so your connection to the arch demon is stronger than most. Eventually these dreams will fade and only the connection will remain."

Morrigan appeared at the tent flap and held out a small bottle to him. Alistair looked at it skeptically. "It is a sleeping draught, not poison, you fool," she sighed exasperatedly. "It will render the remainder of her sleep deep and dreamless."

"Oh. Of course. That may not be a bad idea for the next week or two until she acclimates to the taint in her system."

She tossed it to him and swept silently back to her campsite.

"You can go back to sleep. I will stay with her until the draught kicks in," he told Leliana. She nodded and retreated back into her own tent.

He helped Flynn sit up and uncorked the bottle. She drank it in small sips, cautious of her uneasy stomach.

"Here," he said and took her hands into his own. Flynn saw that she was bleeding where her fingernails had cut into her palms. He poured some water onto a clean cloth and gently pressed it against the small half-moon cuts in her right hand.

"So any other lovely side effects I can come to expect from the joining?" Flynn asked, half jokingly.

"Well...Good news is you won't have to worry about wrinkles," he sighed sadly. "In roughly thirty years you will begin to feel the calling. Most Grey Wardens decide to enter the deep roads alone to die fighting darkspawn rather than allowing the taint in their blood to consume them."

"Oh, I see. I don't remember that being mentioned in the grey warden handbook."

"They don't really like to promote the 'drinking blood and eventually turning into a darkspawn' aspect of being a Grey Warden. It is much nicer to focus on the honor and glory. That is why we are forbidden to speak of the joining with recruits."

"I'm almost afraid to ask...is there anything else I should know?"

"Unfortunately, there is," he said tentatively. "It's almost impossible for grey wardens to have children."

She turned away from him, trying her best to conceal the sorrow in her eyes.

"But, there have been exceptions," he continued quickly, "As a matter of fact, I knew one grey warden who had a full baker's dozen after his joining. It seemed like every town we stopped in he was confronted by a distressed maiden claiming he was the father to their child. He was very prolific."

She laughed softly and yawned as the sleeping drought slowly started to take effect, "Thank you Alistair. I appreciate you being straightforward with me."

"That's what I'm here for, to deliver bad news and witty one-liners." He recorked the sleeping draught and tucked it in her pack.

"I'm sorry about this, Alistair. Please try to get some sleep," Flynn laid back on her bedroll and fell asleep almost instantly.

Alistair lingered, watching her sadly. He had felt so angry and betrayed when Duncan had first revealed to him the fate of being a grey warden. Flynn had actually _thanked_ him for telling her. How could she take such devastation so bravely?

She began to toss and turn restlessly. The remnants of the nightmare still painted on her face. He took her hand into his and gently caressed the delicate lines of her palm until the stirring stopped. He traced the outline of a small faded scar along her index finger. He was suddenly overcome by just how beautiful and fragile she really was. He had known he felt something for her the day they met, but in that moment he knew that it was much more than a simple infatuation. He swore to himself that he would stop at nothing to keep her safe.

Daylight began to peak through the tent flap. It seemed hours had passed without notice. He was unsure how she would react knowing that he had stayed up all night staring at her, so he regretfully let go of her hand and retreated quietly to his tent.


	18. Chapter 18

Flynn woke the next morning feeling surprisingly rested. She slipped from her tent, quietly restarted the fire and threw together some nearly edible oatmeal. She ground in a few walnuts she had found the day before and doled out a bowl for Alistair. She called out quietly and tentatively opened the flap to his tent. He was sprawled across his bedroll, snoring softly. He looked unusually haggard, so she left him sleeping. She waved to Leliana as she emerged from her tent and handed her the bowl of porridge. She poured herself a portion into one of the wooden bowls.

"I am glad to see you looking rested this morning. I was so worried for you last night," Leliana whispered as Flynn sat down next to her by the fire.

"I'm so sorry Leliana. It's pretty embarrassing...I don't think I've had a night terror since I was a child."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot imagine the burden you and Alistair bear as the last grey wardens. Nevertheless, you both have such good hearts and the Maker's light shines strong within you. I know for certain that you can conquer this terrible darkness together."

"Thank you Leliana. It certainly helps to have you standing beside us," she said and smiled up at her warmly. Her strange mix of cheery reverence was beginning to grow on Flynn. Perhaps she had judged her too harshly before.

They spoke quietly as Morrigan and Sten filed in and grabbed bowls of porridge before retreating back to their respective campsites. It was an hour later before Alistair finally stumbled from his tent. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and he had dark circles under his eyes.

"Maker, Alistair, you look awful," Flynn exclaimed.

"And a good morning to you too," he huffed as he grabbed a bowl of cold porridge and plopped down next to her.

"Are you ok?" she asked worriedly, "You look like you didn't sleep at all."

"I'm fine. Slept like a log. All night. Never felt better." He rubbed his eyes and managed to shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth before nodding off against her shoulder. The remainder of his porridge tipped into his lap and he awoke with a snoring jerk.

"Come on, back to bed with you," Flynn laughed. She took his hand and pulled him back towards his tent.

"I'm fine, really. We need to head out or we will never reach Redcliff by nightfall. The last thing we want is for Teryn Logain's men to find us again."

She sighed, "Fine, but if we get ambushed by darkspawn I doubt you can scare them away with your snoring."

He waved her off and began packing up his tent. They set out onto the road towards Redcliff a short while later. They had been walking for miles when Flynn felt a familiar burning sensation beginning to pulse through her veins.

"Darkspawn," she and Alistair said together. Flynn signaled to the remainder of their party and they grouped together tensely, waiting for the attack.

"I can't feel how many," Flynn whispered nervously.

"That means the group is likely being shielded by an emissary," Alistair replied darkly.

"What's an emissary?" Leiliana asked.

"A darkspawn who can touch the veil and use magic. I have only faced one. It massacred half our party before we managed to take it out."

"Maker help us," Leliana whispered and anxiously twirled the dagger in her hand.

A burst of flames suddenly shot towards them. Flynn rolled to the side. She swore and frantically patted out her flaming pant leg. The Hurlock emissary glided from the woods from where the burst of flames originated. Flynn could sense a raw intelligence she had never encountered with any of the darkspawn they had faced. It raised the gnarled, black staff in its clawed hand and countless horrors erupted from the shadows of the forest. Flynn was barely conscious of her companions. She fired arrow after arrow into the emissary, but every shot bounced away harmlessly.

"The emissary must have erected some kind of barrier around the bulk of the horde! We can't touch them until someone takes it out!" Alistair shouted from somewhere to her right.

"Morrigan!" She cried, "See if you can counteract the barrier!"

"I'm a little preoccupied, Flynn!" She growled as she swung her staff into the head of a genlock that had her pined to the ground.

Flynn fired an arrow into the monster's skull and Morrigan pushed herself to her feet. She raised her staff and a brilliant white light shot towards the darkspawn mage, blinding it. The barrier began to flicker weakly. Sten roared as he charged towards the unprotected emissary. He swung his colossal sword into its thick neck and the beast's severed head thudded to the ground.

The Qunari began mowing through the now defenseless horde, swinging into anything that was not human. Alistair followed suit as Flynn and Leliana fired arrows into the rapidly thinning masses. Sten cried out in triumph as he impaled the final genlock onto his sword.

"That was one of the largest hordes I've ever faced," Alistair panted. "Their numbers grow each time we face them."

"I've seen bigger," Sten muttered as he meticulously cleaned the blood from his weapon.

"Was that a joke, Sten?" Flynn asked in disbelief.

He grunted what could have been a laugh and stalked down the path without them.

"The way he cut through those darkspawn was unbelievable."

"What did I tell you," Morrigan smirked, "The Qunari are legendary for the battle prowess." She set off into the woods behind him.

"I think someone is beginning to fancy a certain Qunari warrior," Leliana tittered.

"Oh Maker, can you imagine the children?" Alistair asked, cringing.

"I think the thought of that may be more terrifying than the actual blight," Flynn chuckled. "Come on, we can't be much further from Redcliff."


	19. Chapter 19

They approached the gates of Redcliff Village a few hours later. The castle towered like a dormant giant in the distance. Alistair caught Flynn's hand when they neared the bridge and held her back from the rest of the group.

"I need to tell you something that I..probably..should have already told you.." he faltered.

"Ooh, can I guess? You don't actually like cheese? You are married? Wait, no, you are a werewolf! I got it didn't I!" she teased.

"First off; I love cheese, I'm definitely not married, and we'll have to wait until the next full moon," He laughed sinisterly. "But really...Do you remember when I told you that my mother was a serving girl in the castle and that Arl Eamon took me in when she died, before I was sent to the chantry?"

Flynn nodded.

"Well...the reason he took me in was because my father...was King Maric," he looked anxiously at Flynn. Her mouth hung open in shock.

"But...you...why...wait what?" She stammered.

"I know. I should have told you sooner. It's no big deal really."

"No big deal? Alistair that makes you the rightful heir to the throne!"

"No, no no no no... I'm would make a terrible king. Awful. I have never had any misgivings about my birthright and would never try to claim to the throne. I'm a bastard Flynn. I was swept under the rug like a dirty secret, and I would like very much for it to stay that way."

"So wait...you're not just a bastard...but a royal bastard?" Flynn snickered.

"Ha! I suppose I am. I should use that line more often. I would have told you sooner, but it just never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient. A threat to Cailan's rule. So they just kept me secret. I have never actually talked to anyone about it. Anyone who ever knew either resented me for it or coddled me."

"Oh I don't know. I find it rather...thrilling," she grinned wickedly at him.

"Oh do you now? Wait a minute, did I just find the one damn good thing about my birthright?" he said returning her grin.

"Any other deep, dark secrets you need to reveal before we head in?"

"Nope, just the prince thing...and a slightly unnatural obsession with my hair."

"Well, lead on... your majesty," Flynn bowed and he shoved her ahead playfully.

A haggard young man staggered towards them as they crossed the bridge towards the main hall. "Please, the town is under attack! You must come with me at once," he panted.

"Darkspawn?" Flynn asked as they followed him.

"No, much worse," the man said darkly.

The main hall was swarming with panicked villagers. Flynn scanned the square, but could see no immediate signs of danger. He led them through the gates and into the chantry. An attractive man in his early thirties was barking out commands to the ragtag soldiers gathered around him. The man looked up as they approached and his face broke into a wide grin.

"Alistair?"

"Teagan!" Alistair exclaimed and they threw their arms around one another in a friendly embrace.

"Alistair?! Maker I thought I would never see you again! The last I heard you had been conscripted to join the Wardens and were gallivanting about Fereldan fighting the blight. How long has it been? "

"Too long," he said smiling, "Everyone, this is Bann Teagan, Arl Eamon's younger brother."

"Younger and better looking brother you mean," He grinned, "And who is this lovely creature?" Bann Teagan asked as he took Flynn's hand and kissed it lightly. His lips lingered for a few moments as he met her eyes.

Alistair cleared his throat. "These are my companions," he said and gestured to each of them, "Sten of the Qunari, Leliana, Morrigan, and the woman whose hand you are currently slobbering on is my fellow grey warden, Flynn Cousland."

"Flynn Cousland! You are Bryce Cousland's daughter, correct? I knew your parents well. Your mother badgered me relentlessly when we were in court about meeting you. Had I known how stunning you were, I would have paid her more mind," he smiled at her charmingly.

"If you are quite finished," Alistair grumbled, "We were told that the city was under attack, but I see no danger. What is going on here, Teagan?"

"No one has told you? A few nights ago, Arl Eamon fell ill. He slipped into a deep unwakeable sleep and peculiar things began happening. A fog rolled in from the castle that night and from the fog came unspeakable nightmares," he shuddered.

"Nightmares?" Flynn asked.

"Walking corpses," Teagan said darkly. "They overwhelmed the city and slaughtered more than half of the residents before they disappeared back into the fog at sunrise. I gathered the remaining people into the chantry, but each night the fog brings the monsters and more perish. The most horrifying thing is that those they kill rise again to join them."

"What of Arl Eamon and those still in the castle?"

"No one can reach them to find out what is causing this. We fear the worst for the Arl and all who were trapped inside."

"We have to help them! Alistair pled.

"Oh, so you've run out of orphans to feed and kittens stuck in trees? How are we to defeat the blight when you are so easily sidetracked by sad words and an open palm?" Morrigan spat angrily at him, "We must be on our way to invoke the treaties, not wasting our time trying to save these weak fools."

"This was my home as a child, and this _fool_ was like a brother to me. Arl Eamon is our only hope for convincing the lands meet of Teryn Logain's treachery. Just because you were born a heartless shrew doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and watch innocent people be slaughtered."

"Alright, enough, both of you!" Flynn interjected angrily, "We took an oath to protect the people of Fereldan. We are staying to help. Morrigan, if you are afraid you can set up camp outside of town and we will find you afterward."

"Afraid? Ha." Morrigan scoffed.

"Then fighting a few walking dead should be no trouble for you," Flynn retorted.

"Fine, I will stay and help with your fool's errand. Someone has to keep the last remaining grey wardens from killing themselves," Morrigan snapped.

"Thank you," Bann Teagan sighed, "I will regroup the men and we will be prepared to help you during the attack at this evening. Please take whatever supplies you need and try to get some rest."

He grabbed Flynn's arm as she began to walk away. "And if there is anything that _you_ need, and I do mean _anything_. Please do not hesitate to ask." He smiled his roguish smile and walked back to his men. Alistair glared at his back, fuming.

"Alistair, are you all right?" Leiliana asked gently.

"I'm Fine. Some things never change it seems," he said under his breath and stormed out of the keep.

Leiliana shot Flynn a sideways glance and winked.

"What?" Flynn asked.

"Oh nothing..." she giggled, "I don't think Alistair fancied Teagan's... _interest_... in you, that's all."

Flynn was taken aback. Was Alistair actually jealous that Teagan was flirting with her?

"No...You don't think? Really?"

"Of course! I thought he was going to run him through with his sword with that last _'and I mean annnnything'_ bit. You should go find him. He really did look upset."

Flynn jogged out of the hall looking around the courtyard in search of Alistair. She checked the entire town proper to no avail until finally deciding to inquire if anyone had seen him in the tavern. She walked into the squat, musty building and spied a familiar shield leaning next to the door. She found Alistair hunched over in a dark corner, nursing a pint.

"I hope you bought one for me... I need it after that ordeal," she said as she flopped down in the chair across from him.

"What ordeal?" he asked gloomily.

"Bann Teagan of course! Can you believe that he actually thinks that I would fall for that act?" She took the mug from his hand and threw back a large gulp, nearly choking on its contents. "What in the maker's name is this?" She sputtered once she finally managed to strangle it down.

"Dwarven made liquor of some sort. I wasn't really specific," he raised his hand to get the attention of the bartender. The man brought over another mug and thunked it down in front of Flynn. She took a tentative sip and grimaced.

"Do they brew this garbage out of old codpieces?"

"As a matter of fact..." he smiled faintly and took a swig of his drink. "So... you don't care for Teagan's brand of charm then? Most women find him irresistible."

"Ha! You call that charm? He has quite the reputation in Court. I suppose some silly twits enjoy being pawed at and slobbered on," Flynn took another drink. It went down a little easier. "I enjoy a little more subtlety in my courtship."

"Oh, so you had suitors then?"

"Hey! Ouch, don't act so surprised. I will have you know that I had _many_ suitors. So many suitors in fact that I can now sense them like darkspawn."

"Is that so," he asked. A grin played at the corners of his mouth.

"It is. I cannot tell you how handy that has been when they converge to shower me with gifts. If it were not for my evasive tactics, we would be in constant danger of being overrun by well-dressed noblemen spouting sonnets and weeping forlornly for my hand."

He rolled his eyes, "It must be such a burden to deal with."

She nodded seriously, "Oh it is. Nevertheless, what can I say; when you are as wonderful and humble as I am, there is no avoiding them. As a matter of fact, keep your voice down, there's a large group looking for me right now," She looked anxiously over his shoulder and ducked her head down.

"Come off it," he laughed.

"Fine...no I did not have any 'suitors' to speak of. Thank you for rubbing it in. I fought my mother tooth and nail on that front and escaped mainly unscathed."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I suppose I did have one suitor...when I was ten. One of the stablehand's sons kissed me on the cheek once on a dare; so naturally, I knocked out one of his teeth. I think the message got around after that," she grinned and threw back the remainder of her drink. She signaled the bartender again and he brought them another round.

"To Duncan," Alistair said and raised his glass. They clinked their mugs together and each took a hearty swig.

"So you knew Teagan when you were younger?"

"We grew up together here in Redcliff. He really is a great man. Well other than his shameless womanizing, that is. You honestly didn't find him charming?"

"Not in the least."

"But why? Bann Teagan seems like he would be perfect for you. I mean he is charismatic, rich, and handsome. Not to mention he has a title and power," His voice slurred slightly from the drink. He took another nip and stared dejectedly into the bottom of his empty cup.

Flynn went to take another drink of her own, astonished to find that she had somehow finished it. She turned the cup over to inspect for holes."Maybe I'm not interested in power or titles."

"Well...what are you interested in?" he inquired softly.

Flynn stood woozily, and grabbed her pack. She leaned down as she passed and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "I think we both know the answer to that question... Now come on, and please don't knock my tooth out."

His hand lingered on his cheek where her lips had touched. He grabbed his pack and shield, threw a silver piece to the bartender, and stumbled out of the tavern after her.

Alistair caught up with her as she plodded carefully down the hill; It seemed the liquor was much stronger than either of them had originally anticipated. They meandered their way towards their group who was waiting for them near the town hall.

"Oh how wonderful. Our fearless leaders are drunk," Morrigan muttered angrily as they lurched up to the group.

"We're not drunk. We're..what..what's the word Flynn?"

"Notdrunk," she replied hazily.

"That's the one," he nodded heavily and they plopped down onto the grass giggling.

"So this is the last hope of Fereldan. I should have taken my chances in the wilds," Morrigan muttered.

"I'll get them some water," Leiliana sighed and ran off towards the chantry.

"Oh, I'll give them some water alright," Morrigan smiled wickedly. She raised her staff and doused the duo in a torrent of icy water. They jumped to their feet, the cold water bringing back some of their senses. "Pull yourselves together and prepare yourselves for this ridiculous diversion you have gotten us into. I will not die due to your buffoonery," Morrigan huffed and stalked off.

The cold water had a sobering effect. Flynn could already feel the headache brewing behind her eyes. "Maker, what was that pig piss?" she asked groggily. She flung an arm over her face to shield her eyes for the blinding midday sun. When had everything gotten so bright?

Leiliana returned a few moments later with the water. She stood over them smirking smugly. "I hope you two have learned a lesson," she said tartly.

"Stop yelling, please," Alistair moaned and rolled onto his stomach.

She handed them both a piece of willow bark from her pack. "Here, chew on this; it will help with the headaches. It won't do anything for the bad judgment calls though."

"We just had one drink, I swear," Flynn groaned, "Ok...maybe two, but I think the bartender slipped us something."

"Or perhaps neither of you can handle your liquor," she sashayed away, laughing merrily.

Flynn took a sip of the water and collapsed back to the ground. Alistair flopped down next to her, gnawing on the willow bark.

"I'm sorry for acting like such a jealous ass earlier."

"Ha! So you really were jealous."

"Of course I was. Believe it or not, I am somewhat fond of you. Maker knows why."

"There is no need to apologize. It was kind of sweet."

"Don't let it go to your head," he replied and handed her a piece of the bark. They wallowed in the grass nursing their hangovers. After an hour or so, Flynn looked up at the sky and groaned. The sun was setting. She begrudgingly stood and pulled Alistair to his feet.

"Come on. We should find the others."They jogged down the hill to the chantry where the rest of their group was sitting on the stairs.

"So, you've decided to rejoin us. How very kind," Morrigan sniped. She withdrew a cruel looking dagger from her pack and began to sharpen it menacingly.

"We're sorry. Leiliana was right; apparently, neither of us can handle our liquor. It will not happen again. Maker's word," Flynn crossed a hand over her heart. "We need to make sure that we are prepared for the attack. Sten, you may want to check and see if the blacksmith has any armor large enough for you."

Sten grunted and set off towards the forge.

"Leiliana, why don't you go make sure that all the women and children are gathered in the chantry."

"Of course!" She replied brightly.

"Morrigan...you..um," Flynn began but stopped midsentence when she glared up at her coldly. "You just keep doing what you're doing. We'll go find Bann Teagan and help set up defenses around the perimeter."

Morrigan waved them off dismissively and returned to sharpening the dagger. Flynn and Alistair climbed the stairs and entered the chantry. They found Bann Teagan praying with the revered mother and a large group of soldiers. Flynn and Alistair knelt next to him and bowed their heads reverently. When she finished they walked with him to the back of the chantry where he had laid out a map of Redcliff village.

"I hope you were able to get some rest. Tonight will be very trying. I would hate for anything to happen to you," the Bann said. He took Flynn's hand into both of his own and squeezed.

Alistair's eyes narrowed angrily. He cleared his throat and casually snaked his arm around her waist. She looked up at him questioningly but he just grinned and pulled her closer.

Teagan smirked at him approvingly and released Flynn's hand. "Ah, I see. I apologize if I offended, my lady. You must forgive me, but who could resist such captivating beauty," he lamented. Maker, could he ever lay it on thick...

"No harm done," Flynn replied, "Are your men ready for the assault?"

"Ready as one can expect," he sighed. "The monsters come every night from here," he said, pointing to the castle.

"The main bulk of our forces will be stationed at the end of this path near the windmill. I will remain here with a smaller group and defend the villagers in the chantry from any that break away from the main horde." He folded the map up and handed it to Alistair.

"Maker willing, we can stop them and finally be able to investigate what is going on in the castle," Alistair said as he tucked the map in his pack. "I suppose we should get stationed. It is not much longer until nightfall. The last thing we want is to be surprised."

A man came tearing in the front doors of the chantry, "Teagan! The fog! It has begun!"

"Maker! So soon?" he breathed and snatched his sword off the table.

Flynn and Alistair followed as he ran through the doors and up the path towards the windmill. "Sten, Morrigan, Leilianna!" Flynn called as they ran past their group, "It's starting! Now!"

They grabbed their gear and fell in behind them. A thick green fog seemed to pour from the castle gates. It consumed the entire hill as it made its slow advance towards the village. Flynn stood next to Alistair, watching its progress anxiously. The fog swallowed them, limiting her visibility to almost nothing. She peered into the darkness and swallowed nervously. Suddenly, the decomposing corpse of a short, hefty bald man shuffled out of the haze. Empty eye sockets stared blankly past them.

"Well... He doesn't look that tough at least," Alistair mumbled.

The corpse whipped its head towards him and shrieked throatily; it rushed for them with terrifying speed. Flynn loosed an arrow into the man's chest, and then another and another. The man continued his charge unflinchingly as she peppered him with arrows. More corpses tumbled from the fog and sprinted towards them.

"Aim for the head! It is the only way to stop them!" A soldier cried as he was surrounded by a group of corpses and ripped apart.

"Oh Maker," Leilianna whispered hoarsely.

"You heard him! Aim for the heads!" Flynn shouted. She fired an arrow into the bald man's empty eye socket. The corpse fell still to the ground.

Sten charged forward, fearlessly hacking through the monsters in droves. The corpse of an old woman lunged forward and bit into his hand. He cried out furiously and shoved his sword through her throat. He bellowed a Qunari war cry and yanked outwards, decapitating her. The head clung stubbornly to his hand until he pried open her jaws. Flynn reminded herself never to anger the Qunari as she watched him channel his rage into butchering the beasts.

She fired arrows into the horde as they staggered from the fog. The flood eventually began to slow to a trickle. She drew an arrow and watched the haze for the next attacker. A small body shuffled from the haze and turned to face her. The wide blue eyes of a young boy stared unblinkingly at her. Flynn stood frozen in place as he lurched towards her. Maker, he looked so much like her nephew Oren. Silent tears began to slide down her face. The boy snarled, reaching as if to pull her into an embrace. She raised her bow shakily, but the arrow dropped from her numb fingers. She could not do it. She fell to her knees. The boy's icy fingers wrapped around her neck and began to squeeze.

"Flynn! No!" Alistair cried.

"I'm so sorry Oren. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you," she cried as she slid her dagger from her waistband and shoved it under the child's chin. The grip loosened and the boy fell to the ground.

The fog finally began to dissipate and Flynn solemnly surveyed the carnage. Corpses of men, woman, and children in various stages of decomposition littered the ground. Alistair pulled her to her feet and took her into his arms. His hand smoothed her hair as she sobbed softly into his shoulder.

"What could possibly cause this?" Leilianna asked mournfully. She reached down and shut the little boy's eyes.

"Twas a demon," Morrigan said simply. She prodded the corpse of a young man with her boot distastefully, "This is the effect of very powerful blood magic."

Bann Teagan ran up the hill towards them. "Is it over? Is everyone alright?" He panted.

Flynn wiped her eyes and turned to face him. Alistair's arm remained wrapped around her shoulders reassuringly. "We are fine. Is the village safe?"

"It is now, thanks to you. We should regroup and.." He stopped midsentence as a haggard looking woman stumbled towards them from the path that lead to the castle.

"Teeeagan!" she cried in a nasally Orlesian accent.

"Oh Maker.." Alistair mumbled and shuffled behind Flynn. She looked up at him questioningly but he shook his head and mouthed _'Later.'_ "

"Lady Isolde?" Teagan stared at her in disbelief. "Thank the Maker! I thought everyone in the castle had perished!"

"You must come with me at once, Teagan! Something terrible has happened to Eamon and Conner!" She finally noticed Flynn and her companions and glared at them haughtily. "Who are these people, Teagan?"

"These _people_ just risked their lives to save _your_ village from those abominations," Morrigan fumed.

"Lady Isolde, these are grey wardens and their companions who volunteered to assist us in the attack," Teagan said and pointed to Flynn and Alistair.

"Alistair? Is that you?" the woman asked in disbelief.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes it is Lady Isolde. How...nice to see you again."

Flynn tried to meet his eyes but he pointedly avoided her gaze. The woman stared at him venomously for a moment before turning her attention back to Bann Teagan. "Teagan, you must come back to the castle with me. Alone."

"Wait, why must he go alone? Surely we can be of some assistance," Flynn interjected.

"There are dark forces at work in the castle. A demon. I convinced it to allow me to fetch Teagan, but if I return with you, it will be angry. Please Teagan, I beg you. It has Conner!" She wept.

"Of course I will come, Isolde. I only ask that you allow me to speak with the wardens before we depart."

"Please do not take long Teagan. I do not know how long the demon will wait," she began to walk back up the path towards the castle.

"You know you're walking into a trap, don't you?" Flynn asked as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

"Of course I do. Here," Bann Teagan pulled a ring off his index finger and handed it to Flynn, "Take this. The ring is a key to a secret tunnel located in the windmill up the path. It will take you into the castle dungeons. Perhaps you can discover the source of this evil before it kills us all. I wish you luck."

He patted Alistair's arm and set off after Lady Isolde.

"Why are you two so intent on dragging us into another pointless conflict? I say let them fend for themselves. This is a dangerous waste of time," Morrigan huffed angrily.

Flynn ignored her and jogged up the path towards the decrepit windmill. She shouldered open the door, sending a puff of dust into the air. From the looks of the inside, the mill had been out of operation for years. She searched the floor until she found the faint seams of a trap door. She pushed the ring into the lock and it swung open into a deep, black tunnel.

"Let us be done with this foolishness as quickly as possible and be on our way," Morrigan grumbled as she shouldered past Flynn into the tunnel; her staff glowed softly, illuminating the cobweb-draped corridor.

They followed the meandering path through the darkness. Alistair walked silently by Flynn's side.

"What was all of that about back there?" She asked him quietly.

Alistair sighed heavily and leaned against one of the rough cavern walls.

"I lived with Arl Eamon some years before he married Lady Isolde. There were even rumors floating about Fereldan that I was Arl Eamon's bastard son. Lady Isolde was outraged by my presence when she married the Arl. When she had Conner, she saw me as a threat to his birthright and demanded that I be sent away. Arl Eamon tried to reason with her, but he eventually relented and I was bundled off to the Templars."

"How could Arl Eamon do that? You were only a child!" Flynn fumed furiously.

"I understand now why he had to do it, but at the time I was devastated. My mother had left me a pendant when she died and I was so furious that I smashed it against the castle wall as I left. It was such a stupid, childish gesture," he shook his head sadly. "I refused to speak with him when he would visit. Eventually he just stopped coming. I haven't seen him since."

"You had every right to feel hurt and angry, Alistair."

"Arl Eamon opened his home to me. He showed me more kindness then anyone ever had. I should have handled it better. Now I may never have the chance to tell him how sorry I am for how I acted."

"You will," Flynn said, taking his hand. "We will find a way to help Arl Eamon, I promise."

"Thank you, Flynn."

They jogged to catch up with the rest of their group and continued down the winding passageway until they reached a large oak door. Flynn pressed the ring into the lock and it swung open into a dank dimly lit dungeon.

"Cheery," Flynn muttered. She grabbed a torch from the wall and walked through the narrow row of cells.

"Please! Help me, I beg you!" a voice cried weakly from the cell closest to the exit. Flynn rushed towards the voice, and her torch illuminated a pale hollow face.

"Who are you?" Alistair asked suspiciously.

"My name is Jowan."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," the man sighed.

"We're not releasing you without an explanation."

"Well," the man gulped nervously, "It began when Lady Isolde sought me out to help teach her son to control his magic."

"Wait a minute, Conner is a mage?" Alistair asked incredulously, "Why wasn't he sent to the tower to train?"

"Lady Isolde was terrified when he began to exhibit signs of magic. She knew that if anyone found out that he would be taken away. Not even Arl Eamon knew of it. She searched for an apostate who lived outside of the circle's control to train him. She contacted me through Teryn Logain."

"You still haven't told us what you are doing in this cell."

"Well about that... I escaped the tower by...unconventional means," the mage said evasively.

"What sort of unconventional means?" Flynn asked.

"I suppose you could call it blood magic," the man said resignedly.

"No. Forget it. Let's go. We do not consult with blood mages!" Alistair said and began to walk away.

Morrigan cleared her throat and chuckled from somewhere behind him.

"Wait!" the man cried. "I was desperate and only used it as a last resort! Once I was free from the tower, Teryn Logain's men captured me. The Teryn told me if I poisoned the Arl that he would release me and all of my past transgressions would be forgotten. He told me I would be helping Fereldan."

"You were hired to murder the Arl?!" Alistair growled at the mage savagely, "He is likely to blame for the demon that was released!"

"No, Please! I never consorted with any demons! I believe that Conner may have accidentally torn the veil in an attempt to heal his father. I can help you repair it and vanquish the demon. I swear I only wanted my freedom. I never wanted to hurt anyone," the mage pled.

"I say we free him. No mage should have to live under the iron thumb of the chantry," Morrigan interjected.

Flynn shook her head, "I can't let an admitted blood mage loose to roam the castle, Morrigan. He will remain here until we deal with the abomination. He has to answer for poisoning the Arl."

"I understand," the mage sighed sadly. "The evil presence in the castle is the strongest I have ever encountered. Please be careful. I don't want to be left here to die in the dark alone."

"No one deserves that fate. We will send someone once we find out exactly what's going on here." Flynn tossed him some bread from her pack and they climbed the stairs to the lower chambers of the castle. More corpses bombarded them as they reached the landing. It seemed the closer they got to the source of the dark magic, the more would appear. They finally fought their way to the doors of the main hall. Flynn fired an arrow into the skull of a man who was little more than bones and slumped to the floor. She pulled her water-skin from her pack and passed it around to her companions.

"We need to be prepared for anything once we enter the main hall. Is everyone ready?" They nodded gravely. Flynn slowly pushed open one of the doors and peered inside. The hall was eerily quiet. The only source of light came from a ghostly blue fire in the hearth at the far end of the hall. Flynn gestured to her companions to follow and they stepped into the cavernous room. A cackle of amusement suddenly filled the chamber. It sounded like the laughter of a child, but terribly cold. Sitting in the throne in front of the eerie fire was a young boy. Lady Isolde and Bann Teagan stood on either side of him. Bann Teagan was slumped forward as if he had nodded off standing up. The corpses of the Arl's guards lined the walls keeping a sightless vigil over the terrible tableau. A wicked grin played at the corners of the boy's mouth as he watched the group approach. The look in his eyes reminded Flynn of a cat amusing itself with its prey before going in for the kill.

"Flynn, the demon is in the boy," Morrigan warned in a hushed voice.

"Why look mother, visitors!" the child said in a guttural voice. His words echoed eerily off the walls of the chamber. "I thought I instructed you to bring no one but Teagan. This does not please me, mother."

"I...I am sorry Conner. I did not know that they would follow," she stammered tearfully.

"Of course you didn't. I should have known you would be unable to follow the simplest of instructions. Petulant woman." The boy snapped his fingers and Bann Teagan's eyes shot open. The boy waved his hand and Bann Teagan began to cartwheel around the room."Amusing fool, isn't he?" The boy said, but there was no amusement in his voice. "I can make him do anything I like. Can't I, Teagan?"

Bann Teagan stopped cartwheeling and grinned up at him idiotically, "That's right, Conner my boy! Anything you like!"

"It gets so dreadfully boring here. I think we shall play a game. Teagan, why don't you help me give your friends a proper welcome?" Conner clenched his fist and Bann Teagan rose into the air. Black mist began to swirl around him taking the shape of a sinister looking sword. Teagan reached for the weapon dreamily; the moment his fingers touched around the hilt, the mist wound itself around his body. A manic look came over his face and he rushed towards Flynn, laughing wildly. She spun to the side as his sword crashed into the floor.

"Conner, stop this! Please, you must fight the demon!" Alistair cried.

"Stop? Why I've only just begun," the boy laughed. His malevolent smile stretched into a snarling grimace as he raised his hands above his head. Black mist coiled around him and the corpses of the Arl's guards burst to life. The dead men swarmed Flynn's companions, leaving her unaided in her dangerous game of dodge the sword with Teagan. Conner's spell had imbued the Bann with terrifying speed and strength. Flynn could barely parry his unrelenting blows.

"Teagan! Snap out of it! Please, I don't want to hurt you!" She cried and arched her back to avoid a particularly vicious thrust. She cursed as she stumbled backwards over one of the fallen corpses. Bann Teagan snarled triumphantly and swung his blade down at her. Flynn thrust her arm guard up in a desperate attempt to protect her undefended throat and felt the steel bite through the leather into her flesh. Teagan cackled manically as he ripped the sword back and made to strike again. Flynn barely managed to roll out of the way as the blade smashed into the stone pavers sending sparks into the air.

The boy watched them intently from his perch on the throne, still smiling his malicious smile. Her companions finished off the last of the corpses and circled around Flynn and Teagan as they continued their precarious dance.

"Move aside woman and let me take off the fool's head," Sten growled.

"No! Just give me a moment!" Flynn cried and twirled to avoid another blow.

She charged Teagan, hitting him in the stomach with her shoulder. His sword clattered to the ground and they tumbled to the floor. She managed to kick away his weapon and tried to restrain his arms, but he tossed her aside easily. Flynn saw stars as her head cracked against the stone tile. Sten grabbed Teagan and threw him to the ground as he attempted to reclaim his sword.

"Stop squirming you fool, or I'll snap your neck," Sten said calmly. The Bann snarled and snapped like a wounded animal, but he could not overpower the Qunari.

"Enough! I tire of this foolishness," the boy waved his hand and his uncle fell to the ground, limp and lifeless as a doll. "You have proved more formidable than I predicted. I'll just have to kill..." The boy's eyes suddenly cleared. He turned to his mother, terrified and confused.

"Conner!" Isolde cried and took the child into her arms.

"Mother! What is happening?!" he fell to his hands and knees writhing.

His body abruptly went rigid. He flung his mother away from him and rose to his feet. Flynn could see his battle against the demon raging in his eyes. He fled the room; the door slammed shut on its own behind him.

Bann Teagan stirred on the floor and brought himself to his feet unsteadily. "He must be stopped," he said warily and wiped a trail of blood from his mouth.

"Please, I beg you! Do not hurt him. He does not know what he is doing!" Isolde wept.

"I would never normally suggest harming a child, but I know of no way to reverse a possession once a mage has become an abomination," Alistair replied gravely.

"You lie!" Isolde hissed. "You have always hated me, you petulant boy! You are trying to get back at me for sending you away!"

"Lady Isolde, please," Alistair pled.

"We could consult with the mage in the dungeon," Morrigan suggested, "He may have a way."

"Consult with a blood mage? Are you mad? You have no idea what that monster is capable of!"

"What other choice do we have, Alistair?" Flynn asked delicately.

He shook his head angrily and followed Teagan out of the main doors back towards the dungeon. They returned shortly. Alistair pulled the bound mage behind him. The ropes binding the man cut cruelly into his wrists.

"Tell us, mage, how do we reverse this atrocity?" Alistair spat and shoved the man forward roughly.

"There is a way, but the ritual requires many mages and vast amounts of lirium to perform,"

"Neither of which we have here," Teagan said tiredly.

"There is another way, but..." The mage stammered and looked around nervously at Alistair.

"Please, we will try anything!" Lady Isolde wept.

"There is a blood magic ceremony. I can send a mage into the fade to fight the demon. Once the demon is killed, the boy will return to normal."

"Do it now!" Isolde cried.

"I fear that the ritual requires...a sacrifice of life to perform."

"No. Absolutely not!" Alistair growled.

"It is not your choice! He is my child! Kill me and save him, I beg you!"

"Wait, wait, wait, there will be no ritualistic sacrifices if I have anything to say about it," Flynn interrupted. "The Circle of Magi is only a two day journey from here. We will go and retrieve the necessary mages and return to perform the ceremony, _without_ blood magic."

"But there is no time! The demon has my Conner!" Lady Isolde shrieked hysterically.

"I agree with the warden, Isolde. Let them journey to the tower and bring back the mages," Bann Teagan placed his hand on Isolde's arm and she yanked away from him furiously.

"If anything happens to my Conner, the blood will be on your hands, warden!" she spat and fled from the chamber, sobbing shrilly.

"You should have let the woman sacrifice herself...I think you would have been doing Arl Eamon a kind service..." Sten mumbled. Flynn looked at him sideways and fought to suppress a smirk.

"We should head out immediately," she suggested. She reached down to grab her pack and vaguely noticed that her arm was still bleeding. She supposed that she would need to wrap it once they got on the road, but there were more important matters to tend to at the moment. "Someone should stay behind to monitor Conner. Any volunteers?"

"I do not wish to visit the mage prison. Sten and I will stay here and keep the child pacified," Morrigan offered. Sten nodded impassively in agreement.

"Damn, I was looking forward to seeing her squirm around the Templars," Alistair sighed. Morrigan glared at him witheringly.

"It will also give me reprieve from Alistair's insufferable obnoxiousness. I shall welcome the break."

Early dawn light had begun to peak through the great-hall windows as Teagan led Flynn, Alistair and Leiliana towards the castle gates. Flynn tried to keep a brave face as they stepped over the mutilated corpses that littered the courtyard. The demon would likely remain dormant during the daylight hours but when night fell, she could only pray that Connor would find the strength within himself to hold it at bay during their absence. She looked back at the dark castle and shuddered.

The drawbridge protested noisily as Bann Teagan strained to lower it, "Please return quickly. I fear that the demon's clutch on the boy will only grow stronger with each passing day."

"We will be back as soon as possible," Flynn assured him.

"Teagan, you know what you must do if the demon takes complete control of the boy," Alistair said gravely.

"I will not hesitate. I want to thank you all for your aid. Once the castle is restored and Eamon wakes, we will provide you all the assistance you need."

Alistair shook his hand and they set out on their journey towards the dark spire looming far in the distance.


	20. Chapter 20

The air became thick and humid as they hiked their way up the steep path towards the Circle. The forest thinned the higher they climbed, offering no reprieve from the sun as it beat down on them. They stopped at midday near a low stream to refill their water-skins. Flynn sat down on the bank and reached up to wipe the sweat from her eyes. She cried out as a searing pain shot down her forearm.

"Flynn, you're bleeding!" Leiliana gasped.

A steady stream of blood began to drip down her gloved hand and spatter onto the dusty ground. She tried to flex her fingers and took in a sharp breath. Alistair rushed to her side and deftly unhooked the buckles of her armguard. He gently pealed it away from her sticky blood-soaked shirt. Flynn bit her lip to keep from crying out as he rolled up her sleeve to reveal a deep gash running the length of her forearm.

"Flynn," he muttered quietly, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It happened while I was fighting Teagan. I suppose I was so focused on Conner that I barely noticed the pain," she grimaced.

"We need to go back to the castle. This is going to require the attention of a healer."

"We can't, Alistair. We are over a half-day's journey away already. We have to get to the circle as soon as possible. Everyone in Redcliff is counting on us!"

"She's right, "Leiliana interjected, "There will be healers at the Circle. We will just have to pick up our pace,"

"Fine," he grumbled.

Leiliana took some salves and bandages from her pack. Flynn willed herself not to pass out as Leiliana tightly dressed her arm. Alistair watched her anxiously as they continued, ready to pounce at the first sign of fatigue.

"You know I'm a lot sturdier than I look," she protested when he grabbed her pack and refused to allow her to carry it as they ascended the steep mountain path.

"You're lucky I'm letting you walk at all, missy. If I had my way, I would be carrying you _and_ your pack up this mountain. You know how very selfless and gallant I am."

"You mean how very stubborn and pigheaded you are," Flynn laughed. "It's just a little scratch on my arm, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my legs."

Storm clouds began to roll in from the mountains. Flynn sighed when the first drops of rain began to patter against her armor.

"Maybe it will just sprinkle and move on," Leiliana offered optimistically. She was answered by an ominous crack of thunder.

"Oof, Leiliana, don't jinx us. That is like saying, 'What else could go wrong?' or 'Oh, this day can't possibly get any worse!' You're just inviting trouble..." Alistair said as the first drops of rain pattered against his armor. Moments later, the sky tore open, pelting them with icy sheets of rain. "Told you," he grumbled.

The dirt path churned into a thick sludge that clutched at their boots with each step. They trudged forward miserably as the icy rain turned to a stinging sleet mix. Thick tendrils of fog rose from the ground as the sun began to set.

"We should stop for the night before one of us slips down a ravine and breaks their necks!" Leiliana called through chattering teeth. Flynn and Alistair shouted their agreement over the relentless downpour and they left the path to find a campsite in a grove of stunted Oak trees.

Alistair refused to allow Flynn to help as he unrolled her tent and began pounding the heavy wooden stakes into the ground. She gave him an exasperated smile once he finished and climbed in the flap to peel off her soaking armor. Rain dripped steadily onto her head through a small tear in the canvas. She dug through her pack, trying to find anything to wear that was still dry. At the bottom of the pack, she found the shirt Alistair had given her when they went swimming. She smiled to herself as she thumbed a clumsily stitched patch and pulled the shirt over her head. She lay back on the soft earth floor and listened to the rain tapping gently against her tent. A few moments later, she heard quiet footsteps from outside.

"Flynn? May I come in?" Alistair asked hesitantly.

"Be my guest."

He pushed through the opening of the tent carrying a leather satchel and covering the flame of a small candle. "Is it alright if I take a look at your arm?"

"Of course," she said and stuck out her uninjured left arm.

He smiled and shook his head. "The other one, Flynn..."

She sighed and reluctantly held out her other arm.

He took it gently and peeled away the blood soaked bandage covering her cut. The wound was still oozing thick, dark blood. "You may regret letting me come in," he sighed. He reached into the small leather bag and pulled out a worn sewing kit.

"No! No way! I've seen your stitching handiwork!" She snatched back her arm and pointed to the clumsily sewn patch on the shirt she was wearing.

"Come on, that was years ago. The revered mother had me practice needlepoint for weeks after she saw that. My technique is flawless now. Besides, I seem to recall a certain someone calling me a baby when I received a similar cut a few weeks ago." He held up his arm to reveal the fresh scar from when they fought darkspawn in the Kokari wilds.

"Sure, but yours didn't require minor surgery," she balked.

"Flynn, it will continue to bleed until we close it. I have done this countless times on myself. Please, if not for your sake, allow me to do it for my peace of mind."

"Fine," Flynn mumbled dejectedly and extended her arm to him again.

He repositioned his light and scooted closer to her. Flynn hissed as he flushed the cut with a bottle of alcohol he retrieved from his pack. He pulled a needle from the kit and ran it through the candle's flame.

"Don't watch," he mumbled as he threaded the needle. Flynn turned her head and inhaled sharply as he pulled the needle through her skin in small, quick strokes. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as he made the slow stinging progression down her wrist.

"There," he said softly and knotted off the thread.

Flynn admired the small succinct stitches that ran the length of her forearm. "I'm actually impressed. Honestly, I was sure you would maim me."

"Ye of little faith," he laughed. He wound a clean bandage around the cut. "There you are, good as new."

"Ahem.."

"Oh! Of course, I nearly forgot," he smiled and softly kissed her bandaged wrist. He looked up into her hazel eyes and smiled. "I have something for you," he said quietly and reached back into his pack. He pulled out a small black bag bound with twine. "Here," he handed the bag to her nonchalantly.

"What's this?" She asked curiously as she untied the string, "Wait, whatever is in here is not going to bite me is it?"

"No! Well actually, wait... it may..." He took the bag back from her and pulled out a single stunning rose. The candle bathed the flower in soft flickering light.

"Where did you find this? I haven't seen roses in years! My family's garden had a single rose bush that stubbornly refused to bloom," she reflected, "it did, however, have a penchant for attracting large swarms of bees."

"I found it near the ruins of the warden fortress when we were in the wilds. I had Wynne enchant it when I returned to camp so that it would not wilt. I almost felt guilty for taking it. If I hadn't I'm sure it would have been trampled by the darkspawn. I remember seeing it and thinking, 'how can something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'"

"That's a beautiful sentiment."

"I thought that I might give it to you, actually.." He looked down sheepishly and twisted the black bag in his hands nervously, " In many ways it reminds me of you; such a rare and wonderful thing to find amidst all this...darkness."

"Thank you Alistair. I will cherish it," she said softly. For once, she had nothing clever to say to deflect from her true feelings. What she was feeling now was completely new and foreign...and terrifying.

Alistair watched her closely as she silently thumbed the petals. "Well now that that's out of the way, maybe we can skip the awkward silence part and jump straight to the steamy bits," he goaded.

"Ohhh...and you were doing so well too," she laughed. She gently put the rose back into the small black bag and reached across him to place it in her pack. She lingered for a moment taking in the sweet smell of pine on his skin, her hand resting lightly on his thigh. He reached out and tentatively brushed her hair behind her ear.

Somewhere, deeper in the forest, a wolf howled mournfully. Flynn wasn't sure if it was the wolf's cry, or Alistair's fingers tracing the line of her jaw that brought goose bumps to her skin. She started as a strong gust of wind bit through the tent opening and extinguished the candle leaving them in complete darkness. Lightning suddenly illuminated the sky, casting sinister shadows against the walls of the tent.

"Well, I suppose that is my cue to leave," he laughed nervously.

Flynn felt him shift to his knees against her. She had to restrain herself for reaching out for him, wanting so badly to beg him to stay, even for just a moment longer. She watched his outline move towards the tent flap and then stop suddenly. He crawled back towards her and pulled her to his chest, burying his face in her soft hair.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

Flynn's breath caught as he leaned down and kissed the hollow of her neck softly. "I..umm..goodnight," she stuttered and watched as he jogged through the downpour back to his own tent.


	21. Chapter 21

Teryn Logain sat in the dim throne room of his newly acquired castle in Dererim and drummed his fingers impatiently against the side of the throne. The throne that, until quite recently, had belonged to his inept son-in-law, Cailan. Logain took a moment to run his hand along the gilded armrest and allowed himself a rare smile. This was as it should be. This chair was destined for someone with the strength of mind and character to sit, someone who could wield the power it required. Someone like himself.

Bryce Cousland and Arl Eamon were the only men respected and influential enough to stop his ascent to power. It was all too easy to convince Arl Howe to betray his friend with the promise of a title and land. Moreover, according to his spy in Redcliff Village, it seemed that the Arl's child had taken care of what his apostate assassin could not. Fortune was smiling down on Logain, indeed.

"Howe," he barked, "Where is this bloody assassin you promised?" Logain sneered down at the toady little man with contempt. His only regret in this seizing of power was the necessity to align himself with such a bootlicking rat.

"He should be here any moment, your grace," Arl Howe simpered. "The Crows assured me he is the best in their order."

"Oh stop, you are making me blush," a lilting voice called from the shadows near the back of the throne room. Arl Howe spun around in surprise as the owner of the voice sauntered towards them, nonchalantly twirling a dagger in each hand.

"Guards! Who let this man in without my permission? Guards?!" Arl Howe sputtered angrily.

The man tucked his daggers into his waistband and bowed with a flourish. "I am afraid your guards are...indisposed of at the moment. You should be more careful in selecting men to trust with your life... your Grace." His tone dripped with sarcasm.

"You are the Crow, I presume?" Teryn Logain's eyes flickered towards the man's pointed ears. "And an elf at that," he said with a note of disdain.

"Alas, I am," the man smiled and hurled a dagger into the throne between Teryn Logain's legs, "But I assure you that my skills are not compromised by my race."

Arl Howe's eyes bulged; his face began to turn scarlet with fury, "I'll have your head for that, knife-ear!"

"Enough! Leave us," Teryn Logain muttered venomously.

"But, but my Lord!"

"I said, leave us."

Arl Howe bowed and scampered indignantly out of the room.

"There have been reports from my spies in Lothering and Redcliff of two Grey Wardens who escaped the battle of Ostagar. They could prove...troublesome... if I do not deal with them soon."

"So I take it you will need me to 'deal' with them quickly and quietly for you?"

The Teryn nodded and tossed him a small sack of coins. "You will receive ten times that amount when their heads adorn my castle gates."

"It will be done." The man tucked the gold into his pocket and bowed low again. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you, your Majesty."


	22. Chapter 22

Flynn woke the next morning and sat up dizzily. Her arm throbbed with thick sickening pain. She gingerly pulled away the bandage and moaned. Violent crimson lines spread from the cut climbing up her arm nearly to her shoulder. This was not good. Not good at all. She tried to stand, but her feverish body felt as if it were full of lead. She collapsed back onto her bedroll and pulled her water-skin from her pack.

"Flynn?" Alistair called from somewhere outside.

"Coming," Flynn replied and hissed as she wound a fresh bandage around her arm. She could feel the feverish heat radiating from her skin as she pulled on her armor. Her head swam as she stood and stumbled out of her tent.

"Are you alright, Flynn?" Leiliana asked as she sat down next to Alistiar by the fire.

"Never better," Flynn chirped and gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Are you sure? You don't look..." Alistair began.

"I said I'm fine!" She snapped irritably. The hurt look in his eyes was more painful than the agonizing throbbing in her arm.

"We should get back on the trail," he said quietly and began to pack up their supplies.

"Alistair, wait!" she called as he ducked into his tent. Leiliana gave her a reproachful look and doused the fire.

"Great." Flynn mumbled and staggered to her feet. She pulled the stakes from her tent and laboriously rolled it back into her pack. Every motion was excruciating. She bit down on her tongue to keep from crying out when she grazed her arm against the strap of her bag, sending liquid fire running up her shoulder. She lurched her way through the trees to the path and continued towards the tower, oblivious if her companions had followed or not.

Alistair and Leiliana fell in behind her at a distance whispering quietly together. Flynn glanced back at them warily. She knew they were talking about her. Her fever-addled mind persisted that they were conspiring against her. She pushed away the thought and swayed on.

They continued down the path in silence. Flynn could feel the infection feeding on her strength as the hours dragged by. The sun began to set and the outline of the circle tower stood out on the horizon like a black smear in the fading red light. Flynn let out a quiet, manic laugh. They could not be more than a few miles away now.

A young woman suddenly burst from the forest ahead of them. "Please, you must help me! Bandits set upon my convoy ahead!" She panted raggedly, her face streaked with tears.

The woman collapsed against Alistair's chest sobbing dramatically. Something in the back of Flynn's mind called out a weak warning. She brushed it away and followed clumsily behind as Alistair ran ahead with the woman into the thick underbrush.

They finally reached a clearing in the forest off the main path where three wagons were circled together. Something moved in the trees. Flynn yanked Leiliana down instinctively as a dagger flashed past her and stuck solidly into a tree.

"It's a trap!" she cried.

A dozen well-armed men descended on them from the trees and dilapidated wagons. The woman who had led them to the ambush pulled a dagger from her waistband and slashed viciously at Alistair's throat. He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, barely avoiding her reach as he scrambled for his sword. Flynn's fingers felt stiff and clumsy as she yanked her bow from her back and aimed a shot at the woman's heart. She tried to ignore the screaming throbbing in her arm as she pulled back the bowstring and fired. The arrow found its mark and the woman collapsed to the ground. Alistair pulled himself to his feet. He began to sprint towards her, pointing and shouting at something in the trees.

Flynn looked up just as the slight form of a man leapt down onto her from a low-hanging branch above her. She twisted and writhed against his ironclad grip. They slid off the path and down a steep embankment. Branches and foliage slapped at them as they rolled towards the bottom of the ravine. Flynn's body collided into a tree, knocking the wind from her lungs. The man took advantage of her momentary vulnerability and pinned her body to the ground. His hips pushed against hers as he held both of her hands above her head with one of his own. Had he not slid a dagger against her throat, it would have appeared that the two were sharing a very intimate moment.

"Well that was a fun ride. You are the Grey Warden, I presume?" The man asked in a lilting Antivan accent.

She blinked away a trickle of blood from her forehead and looked up into his face. His light blonde hair fell to his shoulders and a strange Dalish tattoo ran the length of his chiseled jaw up to his pointed ear.

"You're an elf?" Flynn asked curiously, nearly forgetting that the man was currently pressing a dagger to her throat.

"And you, my dear, are very observant," he chuckled.

"Flynn!" Alistair called from somewhere above them on the path. "Where are you?!"

The man sighed and looked down at her with genuine regret. "It appears we will soon have company. What a pity. It will be a shame to kill you. Arl Howe did not mention how beautiful you were," The man lamented.

Flynn snarled and lunged forward throwing the man off balance and onto his back. He cried out in surprise as she wrenched the dagger from his hand and shoved it against the hollow of his throat.

"I seem to have touched a nerve," he gulped, flinching back from the blade.

"Arl Howe is responsible for the deaths of my entire family. The least I can do is send him back his lackey assassin in pieces," she growled.

The man looked at her with surprised indignation. He grabbed her bandaged arm, digging his fingers into her swollen wrist. She shrieked in pain and he rolled her onto her back with an agile shifting of his weight. His body pressed against hers as he leaned his lips to her ear, "I am a Crow, not some lord's lapdog. I am no man's servant."

The dagger glittered menacingly as he raised it up to drive it through her heart. Flynn closed her eyes and prepared for death. She heard a dull thump and felt the man's full weight pressing down on her.

"Flynn!" Alistair cried as he threw the man from on top of her. The butt of his sword was wet with blood.

"Maker, did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" he growled and slammed his armored boot into the man's ribs.

Alistair leveled his sword with his throat. The elf groaned painfully, clutching his side as he came to.

"Oh... Well...this is a surprising turn of events," he muttered. He winced as he wiped blood away from the gash on the back of his head.

Alistair answered with another kick to his side.

"I swear to the Maker, I'll kill him if he touched you."

"Alistair, stop! I'm fine." Flynn stood unsteadily.

"I apologize. Had I known you would be so upset, I would have tried to kill her less _seductively_ ," he smirked, earning himself another kick.

"I hope you've made peace with the Maker. You'll be meeting him shortly," Alistair snarled and swung back his sword.

"Wait!" Leiliana cried. "Alistair, what's come over you? He has yielded."

"I found him on top of Flynn, about to slit her throat! You want me to show him mercy?" Alistair asked furiously.

"He may have information that will be useful to our cause. What is your name?"

The man looked up at her and grinned, "Two beautiful women as marks? Or perhaps your brawny friend actually killed me and this is heaven. If so, please tie me up and interrogate whatever information you need from my _helpless_ body. I respond especially well to horse-crops."

Alistair reared back to kick him again and the elf threw his hands up in surrender.

"Fine, fine, fine. You are no fun. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, hired to slay the two remaining Grey Wardens...which I have failed at, sadly."

"A Crow? You mean the mercenary assassins? They are renowned across Thedas for their abilities. Someone went to great trouble and expense to hire this man," Leiliana mused.

"Who hired you?" Alistair snarled.

"I was contacted by a greasy little man named Arl Howe and brought to the capitol. A rather taciturn fellow was the one who actually made the contract; Logain, I believe his name was."

Flynn and Alistair exchanged a dark look.

"Why are you telling us all this?"

"Since I failed to kill you, my incompetence will be reported to the Crows...who will in turn kill me for my failure. And to tell the truth, I rather enjoy living. Seeing as you were formidable enough to defeat my men, you obviously have substantial skills. Skills that may be useful in keeping me from a rather slow, painful demise."

"You...want to come with us?" Flynn asked him incredulously. "You were hired by my worst enemy to kill us!"

"I have no loyalty to this man you speak of, nor any other contract. My life is mine to give as I choose."

"Zevran, you literally _just_ tried to slit my throat."

"And your muscular friend there nearly brained me with his sword. Water under the bridge. I say let bygones be bygones."

The man brought himself to one knee and knelt before her.

"I, Zevran Arainai, pledge my life to you. There, it is done." He jumped to his feet and dusted off his pants.

"He can't be serious," Alistair mumbled.

"Allow me to collect my things and we will be on our way," he said. He gave her a winning smile before turning on his heels and climbing back up the slope to the wagons.

"Again, he _can't_ be serious."

"Well Alistair if you would like to kill a man who just pledged his life to us, be my guest," Leiliana said with an amused smirk, "I think he will prove useful."

"Surely you aren't naive enough to be buying this _'I give my life to you'_ nonsense. He's probably up there waiting to ambush us, Leiliana!"

They continued to argue as Flynn trudged up the hill. She was too weak and exhausted to care, just so long as they reached the tower. She followed Zeveran over a fallen log and stumbled to her knees. The elf shot out an arm to snatch her before she could fall back down the embankment.

"Careful, warden. I can't have my protector tumbling back down the hill and breaking her supple little neck," he said as he pulled her back to her feet. Flynn flinched as he pushed her hair behind her ear and gave her an impish smile.

"I see that your arm is bleeding. You should tend to that, no?"

"It's nothing," she mumbled and continued up the hill without him. Alistair and Leiliana were still going at it below them; the argument seemed to be growing more intense.

"Enough, please!" Flynn called tiredly. "Let's just get the supplies and continue to the tower."

They looked up at her guiltily and followed. Zevran grabbed Alistair's arm as he stormed past him.

"What?" He asked angrily, whirling to face him.

"I believe we may have gotten started off on the wrong foot. Firstly, I would like to formally apologize for trying to kill your woman."

"My woman?" He stuttered.

"The other warden with the beautiful eyes and freckles. She is your woman, no?"

"She is no one's _woman_."

"Oh, really? So then you are not, how you say, _involved_ with her? How very... interesting..." Zevran's smile widened and he rubbed his hands together lecherously.

"If you so much as look at her!" Alistair began angrily.

"Yes, yes, yes I know. You will tear me limb from limb with your bare hands and feed my remains to the darkspawn... or something equally threatening, I'm sure. I am teasing you Warden! I just thought you would be interested to know that in the throes of our tussle, I noticed that she is favoring one hand and felt very feverish to the touch...or perhaps she was just flushed due to our undeniable _sexual tension_."

He agilely dodged Alistair's fist as it plowed towards his face. The swing sent his arms reeling. The elf grabbed him by the shoulder to steady him. "You wardens desperately need to work on your balance. That is twice I have saved one of you from tumbling down this hill to an untimely demise. And remember, the next time you doubt my loyalty, how very easy it would have been to have instead given you a little push to facilitate the process."

Alistair's eyes flashed angrily and he yanked his arm away.

"But enough with the idle threats and worrying about such trivial things as who was trying to kill who, go tend to your woman."

Alistair sputtered angrily as Zevran turned and scrambled nimbly over the lip of the embankment.

Flynn's vision swam as she reached over the body of one of the would-be-assassins and grabbed a bundle of arrows from his quiver.. She cried out in surprise as someone grabbed her uninjured wrist and spun her around.

She found herself looking into Alistair's somber eyes.

"Alistair, what's wrong?"

He pushed up her sleeve and unwound the blood-soaked bandage. He took in a sharp breath as he surveyed the carnage. "Oh Maker," he whispered.

Flynn tentatively looked down at her swollen black arm and fainted.


	23. Chapter 23

The shadowy silhouettes of trees blurred by as the person carrying her ran through the forest. She could vaguely make out the features of a face swimming indistinctly above her. Someone was speaking, but their words echoed distantly as if she were at the bottom of a deep well.

"Maker, I should have waited," the person holding her panted. "I should have left her alone and let a healer take care of her. This is my fault. Why didn't I notice she was acting strangely?"

"Alistair, stop! This is not your fault."

"Your redheaded friend is correct, warden. I have only seen a wound such as this once while with the Crows. There was a contract made by a very powerful Tevinter mage to kill one of his fellow magisters. He gave the Crow who was assigned the contract a special blade to use on the mark. The blade had been imbued with the power of a demon," he said darkly.

"Teagan was being controlled by the demon in Conner when he attacked her! His sword must have been affected as well. What happened to the Magister?"

"The Crow grazed the mark with the blade as he passed him in the market. The man died an excruciating death a few days later as the terrible infection slowly consumed his body. There was nothing you could have done once such a blade touched her. I'm not sure if there is anything anyone can do for her now."

She could hear a woman crying softly as she faded back into unconsciousness.

* * *

The tower cast an ominous shadow across the lake; its black spire stabbed into the fading light like a dagger. Alistair's breath came in sharp gasps as he raced down the hill to the docks. He looked down at the frail girl in his arms and prayed to the Maker that he was not too late.

A grizzled man sat at the edge of the dock next to a lone rowboat. He pealed a withered apple and watched with disinterest as they made their mad-dash down the wooden pier.

"Please Ser, you must take us to the tower at once!" Leilana cried once they reached him.

"Fraid you'll have to swim for it, my little dove. I'm under strict orders by the knight commander to not allow anyone near the tower. There's been an incident with them mages."

"Please, our friend is gravely injured," she pled.

"And this sodding dock is giving my ass splinters." The man wheezed an unpleasant laugh.

Alistair handed Flynn to Zevran and grabbed the man by his grubby shirt.

"We are not asking. You will take us to the tower. Now!" he snarled. He shoved the man back towards his boat.

"It's your funeral," the man spat and yanked the frayed rope mooring the boat from its post. Alistair jumped into the vessel and Zevran lowered Flynn back into his arms.

Leiliana whispered an apology and handed the man a small satchel of coins as she slipped into the boat next to Zevran. The man stepped in and shoved one of the long oars against the dock. He moved to the front of the boat and began to paddle, mumbling angrily under his breath with each stroke.

Alistair looked down at Flynn's drawn face. He pushed his fingers to her neck and let out a tentative sigh of relief when he finally found a weak pulse. He pulled her tightly to his chest and prayed quietly as they made their agonizingly slow progression towards the dark tower looming in the distance.

The entire journey took less than an hour, but to Alistair the minutes felt like years. He leapt from the boat as it docked and raced up the steps to the tower two at a time. A large squad of Templar's drew their swords as he approached.

"What is the meaning of this?!" The commander shouted. "I directed that no one be allowed to approach the tower!"

"We are here on official Grey Warden business. Stand aside and let us enter the tower!"

"Enter the tower? Are you mad?" The Commander sputtered. "A group of mages staged an uprising yesterday and the fools resorted to blood magic. The veil was torn and the entire tower has been overrun by abominations and Maker knows what else!"

"I don't care if the Arch Demon itself is in there, Let us pass!"

"Stand down, Warden! The doors will remain barred until we receive the right of annulment from Denerim," the commander growled.

Alistair looked at the man in stunned disbelief. "No, you can't mean to... Maker, are you insane?"

"What is the right of annulment?" Leiliana asked.

"It means that they are going to slaughter everyone in the tower!" Alistair roared.

"But why?" she gasped.

"Because there is no other way!" The Templar Commander responded angrily. "We cannot know which mages have been compromised by blood magic. Would you rather have us let abominations loose on Fereldan instead?"

"There are innocent people in there! I will not allow it!" He tried to push past the commander towards the door and found the man's sword pressing into his chest plate. He looked down at it furiously.

Leilana stepped between them men and carefully pushed the Commander's sword away from Alistair's heart. "Please ser, there must be something we can do! Isn't there some way to repair the veil and banish the demons?"

"You would have to destroy the source of the outbreak. I am not risking the lives of any more of my men for some Maker-forsaken mages! They made their bed, I say let them lie in it!"

"Here, here!" a few of his men cried. The others stared down at their feet, ashamed.

"You swore an oath to protect those people. It is your duty to try to save the innocent. There are children in there!" Alistair pled.

"You don't live with those vermin. They are unnatural abominations, cursed by the Maker. We will be doing Fereldan a great service by allowing their existence to be wiped clean from the earth," the commander spat.

"I trained as a Templar. I know many of the mages in that tower. They are good people. I will not stand idly by as you commit murder," Alistair said quietly. "We will enter the tower. We will stop the mages responsible and prevent you cowards from killing innocent people."

"Fine. I have no more time to waste arguing with a fool. Once you enter that tower you will not be permitted to leave until we can confirm that the demonic presence is gone."

The Commander pulled a ring of heavy iron keys from his belt and unlocked the chain barring the thick oak doors. Alistair shoved past him into the cavernous entryway.

"Oh and Warden," the commander murmured, "We will carry out the right of annulment as soon as we receive the orders, regardless of whether you and your friends have returned or not."

The doors slammed shut behind them.


	24. Chapter 24

The torches lining the walls cast ominous, flickering shadows throughout the windowless entrance hall.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" Leiliana called out nervously.

Alistair could sense something moving in the shadows near the back of the room. A strange rattling noise began to echo off the chamber walls. The sound reminded him of a poisonous snake he had once stumbled upon as a child. "Leiliana, Zevran, have either of you ever encountered a demon?" Alistair asked as he laid Flynn's body onto the ground and drew his sword.

"No," they answered anxiously.

"When I trained with the Templars, one of our duties was to monitor the apprentice mages as they were administered their final test. They would enter the fade to prove that they could resist the temptation of a demon. Not all were successful."

"I wonder if you are strong enough yourself, Warden," an alluring female voice asked from the darkness.

"Show yourself!" he cried.

"Your friend is dying. I could save her, you know," the voice echoed hollowly. It seemed to surround him from all sides of the chamber.

"I have no interest in any bargain with you, demon."

A figure stepped towards him from the shadows. A gauzy white dress clung suggestively to the curves of her body; the fabric billowed around her gently.

"Flynn?" His voice quavered unsteadily.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were bottomless pits.

Alistair took a frightened step backwards and whirled around to find that he was alone. He turned back to find the demon standing right before him.

"You..You're not Flynn. This is a trick."

"Please help me, Alistair. I thought you cared for me," the apparition cried. She placed an icy hand to his cheek. The black eyes seemed to be pulling him into their infinite depths. He was powerless to move as she slid her hands around his throat and wrenched him forward.

"I know your heart, Warden," Flynn's familiar smile twisted into a fanged nightmare, the facade crumbling away to reveal the demon's true form, "and it is mine!"

"Not if I can help it," a ragged voice gasped from the shadows.

The demon screeched in fury as an arrow erupted through its stomach. It stumbled forward clutching the shaft.

"You have made a terrible mistake, wardens," it hissed and vanished into a thick cloud of smoke.

Alistair fell to his knees as the demon's hold over him shattered. He looked back to see Flynn leaning on her bow like a crutch. She gave him a weak smile before collapsing to the ground.

Wynne knew she could not hold the magic barrier closing off the main tower much longer. She looked down at the frightened faces of the children seated around her. She had barely had time to rouse the young apprentices and seal off the main chamber doors before countless abominations engulfed the tower. Every so often the blurry tortured face of a mage would appear behind the barrier before being drug back off into the shadows.

The slight form of a red-haired woman appeared suddenly in the doorframe to the entrance hall. To Wynne she looked like a vision of Andraste. Finally, salvation had arrived.

"Alistair! Come quickly, I've found survivors!" Leiliana shouted over her shoulder. Alistair and Zevran stumbled in behind her carrying Flynn's lifeless body between them.

"Petra," a haggard looking older mage cried, "Hold the barrier!" She transferred hold of the seal to an apprentice beside her and rushed towards them.

"Alistair?" the mage asked disbelievingly. "What are you doing here?"

"Wynne? Is it really you? Oh, thank the Maker! I'll explain later, I promise." Alistair lurched to his knees and laid Flynn onto the ground before her. "Please you have to help her."

"What happened to her?" Wynne asked as she knelt to check her vitals.

"She was wounded by a weapon that may have been touched by a demon." Leiliana said darkly.

Wynne pulled back Flynn's sleeve and examined the cut closely. "I fear you are correct. I'm afraid the power to heal her may be beyond my abilities."

"Please," Alistair whispered hoarsely, "you must try."

Wynne nodded. "Please step back from her and fetch a bottle of lirium from the cupboard on the wall there."

Alistair retrieved the bottle and handed it to her. She uncorked it and threw it back with a grimace. She knelt over Flynn and gently took her wrist. Her hands began to glow as she ran them slowly over the wound. The glow began to spread up Flynn's arm until they were both encased in a soft green light. Wynne's face contorted into a look of strain as she mumbled quietly under her breath. The light suddenly began to fade and Wynne collapsed forward onto her hands.

"I am sorry," she panted. "I have done all that I can for her."

Leiliana began to sob softly into her hands. Alistair down looked at Flynn's still body in stunned disbelief.

"No. Please, try again. Please," he cried and knelt by Flynn's side. "There must be something else you can do! Please!"

"The wound has been healed, but I am afraid it was already too late," she said sadly.

Alistair took Flynn's shoulders and shook her gently, "Please wake up, Flynn. Please," he pled. He frantically unbuckled her breastplate and began to press his hands over her heart.

"Alistair, she is gone," Leiliana said sadly and touched his shoulder. He pulled away angrily.

"No! You're wrong!" he continued the compressions frantically. "I won't lose her!" he roared and brought both of his fists up and slammed them against her chest.

Flynn's eyes suddenly shot open. Her hands clutched her chest as she gasped raggedly for breath.

"Maker, she's alive! It's a miracle!" Leiliana cried.

"Move aside, I think you broke her ribs," Wynne pushed past Alistair gently. A small smile played at her lips as she ran her hands over Flynn's chest. Her breathing finally calmed and she looked up at Wynne, slightly confused.

"Wynne? What are you...was I...dead?" she asked the mage.

"Indeed it seemed that way, but I think this young man had other plans in mind." The mage smiled at her warmly and stepped away. Alistiar knelt next to her and pushed her hair back from her eyes. He could not seem to be able to find any words. Flynn propped herself up on her elbows and sat up. She pulled Alistair against her and wrapped her arms around his neck. He clung to her.

"I thought I had lost you," he cupped her face in his hands and rested his forehead to hers.

"I certainly seem to have a flair for the dramatic. Next time you bring me back from the dead will you please try not to break my sternum?"

"No promises," he laughed.

"Well then can't someone else play the damsel in distress for once?"

"Fine, but only if I can wear a pretty dress," he smiled and pulled her to his chest again. "I can't believe you're alright." He cradled her neck with his hand, relishing the warmth of her skin and gentle rhythm of her pulse.

"How do you feel?" Leiliana asked as Alistair helped Flynn to her feet.

Flynn flexed her hand cautiously and smiled."Good as new! In fact, I feel better than I have in weeks," she beamed.

"I truly hate to break up your reunion," Wynne interjected hesitantly, "but as I'm sure you can see we are in a bit of a bind."

Alistair threw his arms around Wynne. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Of course," the mage replied warmly and patted him gently on the back. She led them over to the flickering barrier. "We managed to trap most of the demons that were released behind this barrier, but I fear we will not be able to hold it for much longer. You have come to help us, haven't you? Where are the others?" She asked hopefully.

"I am afraid we are the only one's coming. It seems your Templar friends are afraid to get their dainty hands dirty," Zevran replied.

"I always knew that Commander Gregoir was a coward," Wynne fumed and rubbed her face tiredly. "I know the mage who caused this atrocity. His name is Uldred. There have been whispers for weeks that he was going to stage an uprising, but I thought them just rumors. What a fool I am." Wynne shook her head angrily.

"Uldred? Why does that name sound so familiar...Oh.." Alistair groaned and smacked a palm to his forehead.

"What?" Flynn asked curiously.

"Uldred was the mage I delivered the letter from the Grand Cleric to back in Ostagar... You know, the one you just so happened to send floundering into a fountain?"

"Oh...How wonderful. I'm sure he'll be happy to see us then," Flynn chuckled. "Do you know how to reach him, Wynne?"

"He will likely be at the top of the spire. If he were using blood magic, it would be easiest to control the tower mages from there. We could take back the tower if we could only find the Litany of Adralla; It is an ancient scroll that, when read properly, can prevent a blood mage from stealing your mind."

"That sounds handy," Alistair mused, "Where is it located?"

"I pray it is still sitting safe in its case in the library," Wynn replied. "We must have it if we hope to face Uldred and his followers."

Wynne turned back to face the terrified young apprentices gathered around her. "Little ones, you must be brave. I am going to accompany the wardens into the tower." She took the hand of the eldest apprentice, who appeared no older than sixteen, and knelt before her. "Petra, I am leaving you to hold the barrier and watch the children." The girl whimpered and Wynne smoothed her hair reassuringly. "I know you can do this Petra, just remember your training."

Wynne drew her staff and pointed it at the barrier. She traced the outline of the door and the shimmering wall began to fade. Ominous darkness greeted them from behind it.

"Quickly wardens, and be as quiet as you can," Wynne whispered and they followed her out of the light of the chamber into the darkness of the tower.

Flynn peered into the shadows of the hall as Wynne resealed the barrier behind them. Blood painted the floor and walls, pooling in dark puddles around the bodies that littered the hallway. Some corpses had been torn asunder while others showed almost no signs of trauma. A tortured scream echoed from the tower above them.

"I will cast an enchantment that will keep all but the most powerful demons at bay, but it is imperative that we stay as silent as possible to avoid detection," Wynne whispered urgently. She raised her staff and mumbled softly under her breath. Flynn could feel the warmth of the magic flowing over them and shivered. They drew their weapons and followed as Wynne led them through the maze of apprentice chambers.

"I don't like this," Alistair muttered. "Where are the other mages? Why have we met no resistance?"

"I do not know, but stay on your guard. The library is just through that archway. We should find the litany there," Wynne whispered.

Ancient artifacts arranged on pedestals lined the hall to the library. Flynn stopped to inspect a particularly ancient looking book whose cover looked suspiciously like human skin. She leaned in to read the inscription but was stopped by Wynne's firm yet gentle hand.

"Careful what you touch here. Many of these objects are imbued with magical properties or curses. I would advise everyone to keep their hands to themselves," she whispered.

Flynn froze as someone cursed quietly behind her and a vase toppled to the ground with a resounding crash. They whipped around to find Zevran shuffling his feet and pointing guiltily at Leiliana. Leiliana glared back at him in indignantly.

"Well, so much for the element of surprise," Wynne muttered tiredly. "Prepare yourself; they will surely be on us any moment."

The floor began to bubble beneath them, writhing as it melted and collapsed in on itself. Flames shot up through the pavers and an abomination rose from the floor like molten rock. Its face was a perverse nightmare with gaping, blazing holes for mouth and eyes. It towered over them, roaring hungrily at its prey.

"Maker, what is that thing?" Leiliana shrieked and stumbled backwards. Zevran caught her by the arms and drew his daggers.

"It doesn't matter what it is, just that we can kill it!" he laughed and charged towards the beast. He dug his dagger into where the monster's heart should have been and the demon looked down at him in apparent bewilderment.

"Hmm. That usually works," he mused and the demon swung its enormous fist into his chest, knocking him away effortlessly. Zevran skidded across the room and leapt to his feet. "Perhaps a different approach then?" He leapt onto the beast's back, clawing his way up towards its throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you.."Wynne warned.

The beast burst into flames and Zevran fell to the floor cursing in Antivan and blowing on his hands.

"Calm yourself, Zevran! The demon feeds on your rage!" Wynne cried.

Sure enough, with each curse the demon grew larger and larger. It turned hungrily towards Zevran, swiping at him viciously. Zevran yelped as he ducked and dodged the beast's flaming claws. "You know, a little help would certainly be appreciated!" he bellowed as the demon chased him around the chamber.

"Oh, but you look like you're handling yourself just fine!" Alistair laughed.

"Ha, Ha! You are very funny warden!" Zevran called.

Flynn looked at Alistair with a sly grin, "Well...I guess we should help him. Eventually."

"Oh ho! Two comedians! Perhaps you could travel Thedas as a duo...After you stab this thing a couple times for me, that is!" Zevran shouted and rolled to cover behind a wardrobe. The demon swiped away at the wood trying to reach its quarry.

Wynne raised her staff and cast a water spell towards the beast with an impatient flick of her wrist; the flames of the demon's body sizzled out and it hissed back at her furiously. "There. Now it should be weak enough for you to attack it. Had you not charged in so recklessly, I could have told you that before!" Wynne sighed.

Zevran leapt from his hiding spot behind the cupboard and stabbed the beast in the chest. The demon disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Zeveran glared at his companions through the haze.

"Should we tell him the tail of his tunic is still on fire?" Flynn laughed as Zevran huffed off towards the library mumbling angrily under his breath in Antivan.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll find out soon enough," Alistair chuckled.

A pained yelp echoed back down the hall and they burst into laughter.

"Oh yes, let's all laugh at the poor elf's blistered behind!" he called angrily from the Library entryway. "I think I found the case for your precious Litany. You know, in case anyone other than me was worried about stopping all of these deranged blood mages!" They found him standing before a locked wooden chest inscribed with intricate runes. "Litany of Adralla, this is it, no?" he grumbled.

"You read Tevinter? I am impressed, Zevran," Wynne mused.

"I can also get a girl to remove her undergarments with four words of Riviani, but I'm not sure that particular skill will stop many blood mages...Unless they are attractive, female blood mages that is.. " He said and pulled a leather lock pick from his belt.

"Here, allow me," Wynne offered and passed a hand over the lock. It clicked open easily and fell to the floor with a hollow clunk. She pushed open the chest to find nothing but a few wispy cobwebs and one startled spider.

"Nothing is ever easy," Flynn grumbled as Wynne let the chest thud close. "I suppose we'll just have to continue up the tower and hope we blindly stumble upon it."

"So our only hope is dumb luck?" Alistair muttered, "How fitting as it seems to be the only type we have had so far."

"Is there any other way to combat the effects of blood magic?" Leiliana asked Wynne hopefully.

"I fear that the blood mages may be the least of our worries," Wynne sighed, ""Come along, we must not dally in one place for too long."

Pitch darkness greeted them once they reached the doors to the staircase landing. Flynn grabbed a torch from the library hall and gazed up the stairs to the top of the spire.

"I'll buy you a full wheel of cheese if you'll carry me up these?" She offered Alistair hopefully and his laughter echoed around the chamber.

"It'd have to be the largest wheel of cheese in all of Thedas to get me to heft you up all those," he chuckled as he leaned over the landing to look up the seemingly endless spiral staircase. "Is there some archaic spell that helps you conquer stairs we should know about, Wynne?"

"You'd think a tower full of mages could figure out something, but I'm afraid we'll have to do this the old fashioned way," She said as she hiked up her robes and hefted her staff onto her back.

"Oh. Great," Alistair grumbled and followed the elderly mage as she began to ascend the steps.

They climbed for what seemed like ages before they finally reached the landing to the senior mage quarters.

"We'll stop here for a rest," Wynne said and set down her pack. "Once everyone has caught their breath, I need to retrieve a few of my things from my room. There is a book of spells that may prove useful against what we will be facing."

"Zevran and I will do a quick check of the rooms to make sure we aren't surprised by anything," Leilana offered.

"Be careful, if you find anyone...or anything...do not engage it," Wynne warned. Leilana nodded and they disappeared down the hall into the shadows.

Flynn dropped her pack and wilted to the floor, sighing contentedly. After over thirty flights of stairs, the cold stone pavers felt heavenly. She dug out her water canteen and took a long draw as Alistair collapsed next to her. She handed him the bottle and he took a long draw before rolling over to face her.

"How are you feeling?"

"I wouldn't complain if I never saw another stair in my life."

"You and me both," he laughed and took another draw from the canteen.

The sound of frantic footfalls echoeing down the hall brought them to their feet. They sprinted to meet Leiliana and Zevran as they tore down the hallway. They skidded to a halt, panting raggedly.

"There is something I think you should see!" Leilana hissed urgently.

Wynne drew her staff and they followed them to the main antechamber at the end of the hall. Zevran reached out and gently pushed open the door to the chamber. An enormous mountain of bodies was piled near the center of the room. Flynn crept inside, earning an exasperated huff from Alistair who followed behind her as she snuck towards the closest body. She knelt down next to a young woman and rolled her onto her back. She could find no wound or sign of magic. She looked over the other bodies and saw the same. Not a scratch or sign of any trauma on any of them.

"Well, this doesn't look ominous at all," she whispered.

Alistair knelt down next to her, pressed his fingers to the woman's throat, and shook his head. "It almost looks as if they are sleeping. What manner of magic can kill without leaving a mark?" He whispered. He motioned to the others at the door and they approached cautiously.

Wynne took one look at the woman's body and leapt back, "Get away from them!" she cried.

"What? Why?" Alistair asked.

"We need to leave this room at once!" she turned and began to flee towards the door. The heavy oak bar fell into its lock as she reached for it. The other doors to the anti-chamber began to slam shut as well, their oak lock-bars falling into place on their own, blocking all exits. Wynne drew her staff and whirled back towards them, panic etched in every line of her face. "I should have known. I should have known," she mumbled frantically, "Only one thing can take out that many senior enchanters without so much as a mark."

"Wynne, what is wrong! Please, you are scaring us," Leiliana pled.

"Oh, but there is no need to be frightened," a low voice called soothingly, oozing from the very walls of the tower itself.

"It is as I feared. We are lost," Wynne said dully and pointed back to the center of the room.

The pile of bodies began to shift and churn. Flynn stumbled backwards as an enormous clawed hand erupted from its center, sending some of the corpses toppling to the bottom of the pile to her feet. The beast drug itself out of the mound until it stood towering over them. Flynn stared up at the monstrosity; its skin seemed molded out of melted gore. The waxy disfigured features of its face, if you could even call it a face, looked down on them hungrily.

The Beast raised the ancient staff at its side and the bodies roiled and contorted into a macabre staircase. Flynn knocked an arrow and her companions drew their weapons as it descended towards them. "Welcome Wardens," The hollow voice droned. The creature's mouth did not move as it spoke, its lips had been sewn shut with thick black bands of wire. It was speaking directly into her mind. "I know you all must be so tired from your journey here."

Flynn shuddered as the power of its voice flooded over her. Lulling and soothing her fears. It was right. She was suddenly tired. So very, very tired. "Don't..listen to it..It is casting some sort of enchantment on us!" she pled.

"The demon is too powerful. I cannot resist," Wynne groaned. She clutched her head and stumbled to the tile floor. Leiliana and Zevran followed shortly, collapsing against one another to the ground.

Alistair was the last to fall to his hands and knees. Flynn grabbed his shoulder and tried to haul him back to his feet, but he was so heavy and she was so tired. He looked up at her apologetically, "I can't fight it any longer Flynn, I'm so sorry," he sighed and his eyes fluttered shut.

Perhaps he was right. It would be so nice to lie down. So nice to just lie down next to him and just finally sleep.

"Yes Warden, you deserve a rest," the demon crooned, reading her mind. It walked towards her, beckoning with its clawed hand soothingly, "Let me take you far away from this death and destruction. Let me ease your burden. Let me help you sleep."

No. She glared up at the demon. It took everything she had to stay on her feet, "I will not falter, demon!"

"Of course you will!" It laughed and gazed down at her with a look of bemusement on its melted face. "But I am impressed warden. Few have stood before me so long before succumbing," it droned.

"What...are you.." she said as she staggered to her knees, her eyes growing impossibly heavy.

"I am nightmare incarnate. Do not fight it Warden. Sleep."

And she did.

 _ **(And that is all she wrote..currently.. I have the outline of the remainder of the story and have begun work on the next few chapters, but I would love to know what you guys think before I plunge back in. A huge thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far.)**_


End file.
